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fandomsandflyingstingrays · 8 months

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Stepping Stones: Chapter 13

Flapjack struggles in Hunter’s grip, looking at him with tortured eyes. Pleasure curls through him at the feeling of the palisman's desperate fluttering, and he squeezes tighter.

“That’s right, little palisman,” he says in a lilting voice, the echo of Belos just behind the words. “I don’t need you anymore.”

Flapjack can no longer struggle, Hunter’s grip is so tight. All he can do is watch.

“I’ve already forgotten you.”

A crack runs down his middle.

“And soon, everyone else will too.”

Flapjack crumbles into dust.

Cold horror rips through Hunter, the real Hunter. What did I just do, he thinks, and he strains against Belos’s control, pain blazing through his chest, tears pricking at his eyes. He screams, and the scene shatters, and then he’s no longer in the graveyard but in a sweat-soaked sleeping bag, sitting up, his throat raw.

“Hunter— Hunter! Hey, hey, hey.” Willow is at his side, her arms around him, and he sinks into them with a ragged breath.

“Sorry,” he gasps, “I’m sorry—“

A pillow hits his face, smacking away anything else was planning on saying. Sputtering indignantly, he looks up to find Amity standing over him with folded arms.

“Every unnecessary apology is another strike,” she tells him. He manages a shaky laugh.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Vee asks, leaning over the rail of the top bunk.

Haltingly, Hunter describes the dream. In the time it takes for him to get it all out, a gray light begins to edge around the curtains. Halloween is dawning.

“It makes sense,” Vee says when he finishes, “but it doesn’t make it any easier.” She clambers down from her bunk and sits on his other side, resting her head against his.

“But why were you so worried about forgetting him?” Gus asks. “Usually when you dream about that night, you hear what Belos actually said, right?”

Goodbye, Evelyn, he thinks, and shudders. “Yeah. But…” He looks around at his friends, all circled around him, the early morning light illuminating love and concern on their faces, and lets out a sigh. They’re going to find out eventually, and clearly keeping it in hasn’t been helping. “I’ve been thinking recently of making another palisman.”

He waits for their faces to shift, for accusation or disgust to seep through a careful veneer of concern— but all he gets are nods.

“That makes sense,” Amity offers.

“You don’t have to say that. It’s only been a year.”

“And? It’s not like there’s a timeline.”

“I know, I know, but this is too soon, isn’t it?”

“A palisman is a pretty essential part of life on the Isles,” Willow points out. “You use them to get around, most of the spells we’re learning at Hexside these days require them, and of course there’s flyer derby. It makes sense that you don’t want to rely on Stringbean for that.”

“I want to rely on Flap.”

“But he’s gone,” Vee says, her voice painfully gentle. “And that’s not your fault, or his. It’s just the way things are. You’re doing the best with what you’ve been given.”

There’s a long silence, and then Luz draws a breath. She speaks each word carefully enough that he knows she’s been thinking them over.

“After a few months of living on the Boiling Isles, I started thinking of Eda as a kind of mom. I loved her like one, and she cared for me like I was her kid. And that made me feel really guilty, because I had a mom back in the Human Realm, and I’d already hurt her by running away. When I started telling Mamá stories about Eda, I was kind of worried. I thought maybe she’d be jealous or something. But when I told her that, she said of course not. She said that she knew me caring about Eda didn’t mean I cared about her less, because that’s not how love works.”

Hunter lets out a breath. “And I know that. Or, I want to know that? I guess? Like, it’s not like I ever think Raine replaced Lightning with Fiddlesticks. But it still feels like I’m replacing Flap. Like I’m forgetting him. I don’t think I could have left the Emperor’s Coven without him. I don’t think I’d be anywhere near where I am now if he hadn’t found me. I don’t want to act like that didn’t matter.”

“Well, then,” Gus says, “it’s lucky we have the week off of school and all made plans to spend the day together. Let’s do something for Flapjack.”

“Like what?”

Luz takes a breath and leans forward, an old pain lurking behind her smile. “I have an idea.”

…

The grave is a team effort. Hunter picks its spot in the palistrom forest and helps Luz sketch out the design, Gus locates Matt and gets him to clear an hour to build it, and Willow and Amity surround it by flowers. By the evening, it’s a complete monument: a headstone wreathed in purple blooms, bearing the only words Hunter could imagine leaving as a legacy.

Thank you for finding me.

Camila brings them lunch, they sit in a circle and talk, telling stories about Flap and what they think he’d be up to in a world free of Belos’s control. It all sits heavy on Hunter’s chest, but the ache is easier, somehow, knowing that other people are feeling it too.

When the light in the clearing turns golden, casting all of their faces in shadow, Luz stands and offers a hand to pull Hunter to his feet. “So?” She asks. “Are you ready?”

Hunter lets out a long breath and looks back at the stone— a stone built to last, built so that anyone who walks through these woods will know what Flapjack did for him. “I think so.”

“All right.” Willow stands, too, and threads her fingers through his. “Let’s go find the right piece of wood.”

Hunter starts moving deeper into the forest, knowing the best wood is found in the older trees, but pauses at a tug in his chest. He turns back to the stone. Forces himself to look forwards again. Tries to move. Buries his face in his free hand.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps. “I’m just… I feel like I’m leaving him behind.”

A light hand rests on his back, and he turns to find Luz standing there, a darkness in her face he rarely sees. “You are,” she says simply. “That’s why it hurts so much. There isn’t anything that can fix that.”

“Is there anything that can help?” he asks desperately.

Luz shrugs, giving him a sad smile. “I’m still looking.”

“What about the tattoo?” Amity asks, coming to stand next to her.

Luz snaps her fingers. “Oh! Good thinking!”

“Tattoo?” Hunter asks.

“I got my mom’s permission to get one after I turned sixteen, but it’s taken me a while to settle on the right design.”

Luz takes out the sketchbook she used to draw out the image of Flapjack now etched into the grave. She flips through it until she reaches the page she wants, holding it out to him. A purple snake is sketched on it, with its head at the bottom of the paper and its tail reaching towards the top. Flowers bloom along its body, making it look like a sort of bouquet.

Willow gently runs her fingers along the body. “A snake for Stringbean?” she asks. Luz nods.

“And flowers for your dad,” Hunter says quietly.

He’s never really felt like he can compare losing Flapjack to Luz losing Manny— they feel, in his mind, like two entirely different kinds of loss. But as his mind goes over what Luz has been saying, he realizes she understands what he’s afraid of. He fears carving a new palisman and bonding with it, learning magic and playing flyer derby with it, because it means growing into a person who isn’t Flapjack’s witch. But Luz has been through that already; she’s not the girl with the flowers in her father’s memory. She has left him behind. She’s grown up into someone he doesn’t know anymore.

Hunter can see in Luz’s face that she recognizes him realizing this, and she gives him another little smile.

“I’m not the person he knew,” she says. “But that person is still part of me. This way, I can always remember that. He’ll never understand the snake, never know who Stringbean is or what she means to me. But I’ll always have the flowers he gave me, and I’ll always remember the person he gave them to. Always remember him.”

Tears fill Hunter’s eyes and he nods. “I think I understand.”

He looks back at the grave once more, and Luz takes his hand.

“Let it hurt,” she says. “But keep moving anyway.”

Hunter takes a deep breath and feels Willow squeeze his other hand, sees Gus wrap one arm around her and one arm around Vee, feels Amity come to stand on Luz’s other side. They walk away together, and it tears at his chest, but he puts one foot in front of the other until Flapjack is out of sight.

He finds the perfect piece of wood to take about ten minutes later, and they make their way to palisman carving grove. The first notch is made with trembling hands, but Hunter has learned not to mind the idea of imperfections. He keeps going, one shaky cut at a time, until his hands find their rhythm again.

Word of what he’s doing gets around, and as the evening wears on, he finds Camila on one side of him and Darius on the other. Raine plays low, soothing songs and Eda hums along. Whenever Hunter looks up, he can see Dell, Gwen, and Eber sitting together, all giving him smiles of approval.

The sky is totally dark by the time he finishes, a plump blue bird perched on his fingers. A cold nausea fills Hunter as he looks at their still form in the shadows, his nightmare layering overtop of the reality, the weight of Flapjack’s broken form heavy in his unresponsive palms. Someone nudges his leg, and he looks down to see Gus counting one, two, three, four with his fingers and inhaling slowly in time. Hunter exhales along with him, and they breathe like that until he feels his mind settle back in the present.

“Very good, Hunter,” Dell says. “Now all you need to do is express your wish.”

Hunter looks down at the palisman again, mulling it over. He can hear his voice from a year ago floating through his head, desperate and angry.

I'd like to leave the Emperor’s Coven, and never set foot in the throne room again. I'd like to study wild magic, and learn how to carve palismen. I’d like to attend Hexside as a regular student, and play flyer derby with my friends. But most of all, I’d like to make sure you never hurt anyone again.

And he’s done it. Everything he wanted, he got. A sense of pride, warm and soothing, seeps through him at the knowledge— but even so, something doesn’t feel quite right. Getting the future you wanted, he realizes, doesn’t mean getting over the past you lost.

“I want to heal,” he says, so quietly he almost can’t hear himself.

He clears his throat. Stares at his hands until they swim before him. His hands, that destroyed Flapjack. That have created countless palismen since, including the one who sits in those hands now, waiting to come to life.

“I want to heal,” Hunter says, and this time his voice doesn’t waver. “I want to help heal the palistrom forests, and bring palismen to life. I want to be there for my friends, and help them heal from what they’ve endured. And I want to find as much healing as I can for me. I want to be able to feel my pain without being afraid of it. Without being afraid of myself.”

There’s a fluttering in his fingers, a pulse of life. And the palisman— his palisman— opens his eyes.

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kiyoobi · 2 years

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we all are small particles holding very tightly together in a very large universe // k.bakugou

Rating: MA

Pairing(s): Tamaki Amajiki x fem!reader, Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, heavy angst, emotional cheating, major character death, smut, body horror/graphic injuries, trauma, ptsd, sinkhole accident, medical trauma, hospital scenes

expected wc: 20k+

Summary: Soulmates are given to every child when they turn five through their dreams. You were never assigned one. Growing up and coming to terms with never having a soulmate, you find another Tamaki with a similar fate and become happily engaged. What happens when you start to dream of an old classmate though, his ruby eyes and caramel scent haunting you in and out of your dreams?

a/n: this is my part for the big bang collab (@mybigbangacademia )! woooooooo!!!! artwork to come by the lovely @/wasabi-gumdrop. uhhhhh what else..... this first part is 5k, and overall i'm gonna have over 20k words lmao, so good luck me and everyone else. also, my ao3 is linked too! have fun with that.

and as always,

minors dni

-(-)-

It’s him.

Your eyes meet his and you remember it all.The folds of his school uniform from years ago. His blonde hair in the wind as he blasts his way through the air, racing to be the first pro-hero on site. He stands there, watching you go through the motions. Watching you unsure of yourself, palm over your heart as it aches for him. You step forward, not sure if you’re making the choice to walk towards him or if your heart is still the one in control.

He watches with a careful expression, as if he’s known for years that he’s been the one. He watches as if he’s been waiting. Waiting for your eyes, once clouded, to look into his vermilion ones and see for yourself who he is.

Katsuki, your voice is barely above a whisper and there’s tears starting to sprout from your eyes.

His eyebrows furrow, as if he can’t tell if you’re relieved or questioning the weight of his name on your tongue.

You hold out your hand, outstretched fingers aching to brush his skin.

You okay?

The palms of his hands are warm as they hold yours, and for the first time in forever,you tell the truth.

-(-)-

The room is still dark despite the streaks of light filtering through the blinds. Your mind is foggy, the remnants of your dream withering away with each second. You blink back tears, unsure of what it was you were dreaming about now that you’ve started to wake up. Still half asleep, you mistake the man in your arms for blankets and pillows until he starts to stir awake. For a brief second, a scary moment, you forget who he is and why he’s in your bed.

“Tamaki,” you whisper. You didn’t mean to say this out loud yet he groans in reply, mistaking your answer to your own question for a greeting. “G’morning.”

“Mm,” he hums. Your arms squeeze tight around his shoulders and now that your eyes have adjusted to the dark, you can finally make out his indigo bedhead against your pillows. “Mornin’.”

You smile, ignoring the strange sadness settling inside your belly. “When did you get in? You were still working when I went to bed last night.”

Tamaki doesn’t answer for a moment and you think he’s fallen asleep until he turns onto his back. People mistake him for being thin, wiry. Yet you can feel the ropes of muscle in his arms as he pulls you in close by your waist, you can feel his broad chest and his stocky build against your soft curves. His quirk revolves around food and he’s a damn good pro-hero, a prospective top 10 hero this year, of course he ain’t skinny.

“Three,” he replies. “Stay in bed.”

“The Clash is in full swing, Tama.” You joke but you curl into his warmth nonetheless, allowing yourself the few minutes of peace before you go into work. ‘The Clash’, meaning your conflicting schedules, happens at least three times a year. A few weeks of one of you having graveyard shifts while the other keeps to the normal day-time shifts for a pro-hero. He sleepily groans again, yet Tamaki loosens his arms around you.

“When’s your shift done?” His words slur, and it takes you a moment to comprehend his question before you answer.

“I’ll be going in by then,” Tamaki sighs.

You kiss his jaw, soft and clean shaven. He still shaved after his graveyard shift last night, knowing that you prefer the feeling of his skin smooth over the prickle of a five o’clock shadow, AM or otherwise.

“Should’ve gone to my agency instead of staying with Fatgum,” you tease. Tamaki never would’ve changed agencies, and he reaffirms that with a displeased hum. A soft giggle slips out from your lips and you roll your eyes.

Your agencies aren’t that far apart, yet it’s clear that Fatgum’s is far superior than the one you’ve started at a few weeks ago. Your manager nearly quit on you when you transferred, ignoring her pleas to move somewhere that’ll help you climb the ranks instead of plateau. You waved off the questions people threw, ignoring their confusion as to why you’d ever leave such a high ranking angeny for a… mediocre one. He doesn’t put up much of a fight when you start to peel away from him, stuffing his face into your pillows as you fumble around the room. The apartment is quiet when you slip on your running shoes, you sling your work bag over your shoulders before you give one last quiet goodbye to your fiancé.

-(-)-

There’s a nagging feeling that you’ve forgotten something. All day you couldn’t shake it. All day your fingers drummed against every desk and flat surface, you bounced your legs on the balls of your feet until your coworkers threw heated glares in your direction. You ignore them now, you ignore their exasperated sighs as you continue to bounce your leg while you type away your paperwork. You chew the inside of your cheek, resting your chin in your hand as you scroll through the file one last time before submitting it for review. These arrests won’t help your rank, it won’t make you popular, they won’t even make it to the front page of the Esuha Daily News let alone the fourteenth page. But it’s a good day.

You’ve made good arrests today, all without casualty. You even meal planned your fucking lunch. So why the hell are you on edge?

Of course your arrests didn’t have casualties though, they didn’t even have injuries. You barely used your quirk today.

Did you even use your quirk today?

The highest activity your watch took track of was when you took a light jog back to your agency building after capturing a runaway purse snatcher. In fact, that was the first and only time you had to use your quirk. He thought running sporadically would throw you off your balance, and maybe it would’ve for a low ranking hero. In a split second you activated your quirk and he teleported right into your arms instead of turning the corner like he had planned. You’ve been working on this trick for months, teleporting objects or people in your place but catching them halfway. Meeting them in the middle. In seconds he was in handcuffs and you left it to the police to get him into custody. You jogged back to work for lunch.

The inside of your cheek starts to bleed as anxiety gnaws inside you. Whatever it was that you had forgotten, is probably gone forever. Irritated at the realization, you sigh and decide to burn off this extra energy with a walk around the building. Tamaki is probably getting dressed by now, stuffing his hero costume into his work bag right from the dryer. He’s got a terrible habit of not folding his clothes, you both do. It’s why you invested in a wrinkle releaser spray, and you hope he’s remembered it for tonight’s shift. Civilians recognize you still, you can’t help a sense of pride and relief when their eyes brighten at the sight of you. A child stops you from your anxiety-ridden walk for a quick autograph, begging you to show them your teleportation quirk before their parent bashfully drags them away.

Your hands twitch, begging to be useful and aching to be used again. You turn the opposite away and head back to the agency.

-(-)-

I cooked u dinner!, you text Tamaki, don’t forget it. it’ll help ur shift tonight :P

Your head bowed low as you stroll down the block, your shift just ending according to the time in your phone. It’s why you don’t see him, it’s why you feel the split second heat of his body prickles against you before you activate your quirk to avoid further disaster. He stumbles in your previous spot, his cheeks pale from nausea as he leans forward (usual symptoms of being teleported without warning).

“Watch where you’re fucking going,” he spits out before straightening up. An eerie sense of dejavú washes over you as you stare back at Dynamight. His eyes haven’t been painted with eyeliner yet, and he’s carrying a gym bag over his shoulders that’s most likely holding his costume.

“Right- sorry.” You let out a laugh, not sure why you’re feeling flustered. You have work to finish before going home, a few more files to mark as “important” even though they’re technically insignificant. You have a home to go to. But his eyes are still on you. And you can’t look away. You’ve forgotten something today, and it’s nagging at you even more now than ever.

His eyebrows furrow and he watches you carefully as your thoughts race. “Shadow Step,” he greets you curtly.

“Dynamight,” you nod and give him a polite smile. Your eyes cut to the athletic compression band on his left arm, surprised to even see a kind that begins from your shoulder and ends at your fingertips. “Are you going into a shift or coming from one?”

Bakugou looks you up and down for a moment before answering, “Coming from one.” There’s an awkward pause before he clears his throat. “You look like you’ve got a long night ahead of ya.” Yeah because you haven’t fucking done anything all day and you’re bored .

“Shift just ended actually,” you smile and look behind him towards the agency building.

“You okay?” Bakugou’s words snap your attention back to him, that feeling of dejavú even stronger now.

You both stare for a moment; you, deciding on telling the truth, and him patiently waiting for you to answer or just move along.

“Yeah,” you lie. You hurry back inside the building before he can reply. He used to call me Bambi , you distantly remember. You don’t know why your heart is still racing after seeing him again.

-(-)-

For the next week, it keeps happening.

You wake up with either tears in your eyes or the ghosts of one’s still on your cheeks. Yet whatever you dreamt of is long gone, no matter how much you try to cling to the memories. Until one morning it lingers, the feeling of his hair between your fingers and the warmth of his body against yours. The smell of caramel.

The realization settles slowly, until the weight of guilt is heavy against your bones.

“Fuck,” you mutter. Out of fear, you reach behind you only to feel a cold empty bed beside you. That’s right, Tamaki is on a plane to China for a mission. He’s not going to be back for another week. You stuff your face into the soft blankets, hoping that the smell of home will dampen the heavy caramel still filtering in your mind.

You’ve never even had a real conversation with Bakugou since… ever. With the exception of last week when you inexplicably ran into him, you always saw him in passing from your years at UA. Neither of you had spoken much, maybe paired against each other’s classes for training but other than that…

Today is your day off, you give yourself the luxury of staying in bed for just a little bit longer. The warmth in your chest from your dream is finally lifting, leaving you to breathe once again.

It meant nothing. Just a random dream.

But as your day continues, you can’t get rid of the thought of him.

Why weren’t you guys ever friends? Maybe because he was a major asshole who looked down at everyone like they were a piece of shit.

You snort, shaking the very idea out of your head until a memory springs forth.

Cherry blossoms were floating in the air and the weather just started to turn warmer. It was your third year, the excitement of graduating buzzed through all your classmates and it meant that you all had trouble concentrating on courses. You had gotten in trouble for doodling during the fire quirk safety course, and was forced to stay behind to clean the classroom all by yourself before heading back to your dorms.

You bumped into Katsuki right after, both of you stunned that another student was still around the school so late that neither of you said a word just yet.

“God, Bambi, you’d think that with your stupid quirk you wouldn’t bump into anyone,” he rolls his eyes.

“Fuck, I’m sorry-! Bambi?” You instantly retract your apology, glaring as he brushes you off.

“Yeah, Bambi. Baby deer who can barely fucking walk?” His stupid smirk makes you see red, especially when he starts to step away from you. I nstead of his heavy boot meeting the ground, his face does instead when you activate your quirk. The checkered tiles don’t match now since you’ve switched their spots, but you’re cackling too loudly to care. Just as you try to leave, Katsuki’s hand grabs your ankle and trips you. It’s too quick for you to even think to use your quirk, and the smack of the tile stings.

“What the- fuck you!” You turn and snarl, his annoying little sneering frustrates you more.

“Relax, tit for tat.” Bakugou towers over you, the same hand that tripped you is now offered to help you stand. Reluctantly you take it.

You both help pick up the other’s things, his papers that flew with perfect grades and messy drawings on the tests that you finished early on. It’s quiet between you both. To be honest you were feeling awkward, wondering if maybe you are just a lowly piece of shit as you stare at Bakugou’s perfect marks. You glance at him, not wanting him to catch you marveling at how absolutely genius he is, and find him with one of your essays in his hands. His thumb traces over a messy sketch of a face, the angles harsh and the eyes sharp, but the rest was a blur.

“Soulmate?” He grumbles, his red eyes looking up at yours and you feel your insides freeze at being caught.

“Uh, no. I don’t think so. I don’t think I have one,” you mumble and take the essay from him. Morbid curiosity takes over and you ask him the same.

“Yes,” his answer surprises you. Something in your belly flips, not wanting to know why exactly that upsets you.

You didn’t expect him to have one, not with his attitude and ego. It shouldn't be surprising that he has one, it’s rare for someone to be like you: one without a soulmate. Fated to be alone. By the age of five, right around the time a child has gotten their quirk, they start to dream of their soulmate. You’ve heard of soulmates meeting in sleep, talking and laughing and holding each other in dreams. Waking up knowing they’re out there, remembering every detail of them. You didn’t get these dreams. Maybe you saw people, indistinct faces. But everyone did.

“But how do you know they're your soulmate and not just a random person your brain made up? How do you know it’s not just chemicals?”

Your friends shrugged, a dopey smile on their faces as they imagined their future partners, “You just do.”

That wasn’t helpful.

“Oh,” you replied. “Congrats.” You wanted to reach out and fix his tie and a part of you yearned to run your hands through his hair and see if it truly feels as soft as it looks. Instead you stuffed your papers into your bookbag and stood, muttering an apology for tripping him.

Bakugou looks at you and nods, “It’s fine. I was being a dick.” The sun setting outside streamed through the glass wall and washed over his cheeks, his eyes are rubies in the sunlight. “See ya around, Bambi.”

You nodded, turning away before he could first.

Almost immediately, the feeling of warmth in your chest turns to guilt. A chill runs down your spine, prickling your skin with discomfort. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters.

You’re engaged. He has a soulmate.

None of it matters. You’re happy.

You’re happy. You’re happy. You’re happy. You’re happy.

You mutter this to yourself all day. You tap the words onto your lips with your pen as you fill out endless paperwork. Today you avoid going out on patrol, not wanting to bump into him again. Nearly every time you’ve gone on patrol, you see Katsuki,- Bakugou,- Dynamite . The screams of children as they swarm towards him would catch your attention, and of course the moment you glance towards the commotion you meet his gaze. Time stands still for just a millisecond, and the vague feeling you woke up with that moment would come back like dejavu. Or you’re getting lunch, rushing towards the food stand with the older auntie who loves to squeeze your cheeks and demand you eat more, when the smell of sugar lingers for a moment before disappearing. You hate how your heart races at the smell of sugar burning, you hate that you think of his soft blond hair and his eyes, only to see the treats being sold to the families passing through. All of your shifts are so sleepy, so goddamn boring, that you never noticed the stands selling sweets like American brittle or caramel dipped apples until now.

Caramel follows you everywhere now. Or maybe it’s always been there and you just haven’t noticed. So you decide to stay inside the office, at least until Tamaki gets back from his mission and you can feel like yourself again.

I’m happy. I’m happy. I’m happy.

You stare at the photo of Tamaki and you on your desk, doing everything you can to ignore the ghost smell of caramel determined to linger around you.

-(-)-

You train harder at night. You do everything to avoid sleeping and if you do pass out, you hope to not dream. You can’t take it, seeing him instead of Tamaki. As you go through the motions of hitting the punching bag, ignoring the way your body screams for you to take a break, you nearly miss Tamaki’s call.

“I haven’t heard from you,” his voice makes your chest tighten with guilt. “How was your day?”

The same. It’s always the same. You walk and catch the occasional kid who tries to steal a phone. You sit in your office and do the mind numbing paperwork that follows. Rinse. Repeat.

It’s always the same. You hardly use your quirk, you hardly use the special moves you worked so hard on back in your high school days.

You go home to an empty apartment and an empty bed, left wondering why the hell you aren’t doing more. You go home and eat a dinner you always make for yourself and wish for once that someone else can just do it for you. You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, still brimming with energy and pent up rage, wondering why you are here. Longing for a home that doesn’t exist.

“It was fine,” you chug water in between breaths, the muscles in your arms quivering as you finally take a break.

“That’s nice,” his voice is sweet. You hate how annoyed you’re starting to feel about how compliant he is. There’s a long silence and you wonder when you both got so comfortable.

When did you get so comfortable? When did you stop trying? Why did you decide to settle for less?

That thought stops you cold. Settle for less? Did you mean your career or… Tamaki wasn’t less. He’s a good man, a brave hero, a loving partner. He took care of you. He takes care of you.

He’s never pushed you.

You both never fought, you were both so compliant.

But he loves you.

“I love you,” you say.

Tamaki keens out a shy noise, still not used to your affection even after all your years together and you smile. “I love you too.”

“I want to leave my agency,” you blurt out. “I hate it. It’s so boring.” Everything spills, the way you feel so useless each day, your dreams of being the best being swept away by his shadow, you tell Tamaki everything. Leaving out the smell of caramel that haunts you each morning.

Tamaki is quiet for a moment before responding, “We have a position.”

“You do?” You sit on the gym mat, wondering why you ever doubted your faithful fiancé, your ecstatic laughter rings through the training center.

“Yes,” Tamaki joins in on your laughter. “You’d have to start as a sidekick, really just think of it as the transition period before we get you to debut as a pro hero. But-,”

You can hear your blood rushing through your ear drums, flooding out whatever else Tamaki is saying. Start over? Can you do that, start from the beginning and rise up?

“We can even work together, it’d be- God, that’d be fantastic. I can see you more-,” Tamaki is getting excited, but all you can think of is how once again, you’ll just be overshadowed by the Suneater himself. You wonder if he can hear how hollow your voice sounds, when you tell him how great that’ll be.

A few days after the phone call at the training center, Tamaki tells you that his mission was extended and he won’t be home until the end of the month. You can’t sleep hours later after you told him goodnight, and decide to go on a run. The sound of your feet hitting the pavement helps drown out your thoughts. Lately you’ve been so preoccupied with transferring agencies as soon as Tamaki gets home, that you’ve almost forgotten your soulmate dilemma.

Almost.

You run faster to avoid thinking about it, about him. You’re totally not thinking about him, and you’re doing an excellent job not thinking about him that you run into the asshole.

“Fuck,” you barely feel the scrape on your knee before activating your quirk to save yourself. “Sorry, I-”

“You’d think that with your quirk, you wouldn’t bump into anyone, Bambi.” This time, it’s amusement and not annoyance that he says this sentence to you for a second time in your life. Kat- Dynamite holds out his hand, looking down at you with a faint smirk as you graciously take it. You activate it again, switching places so that you’re looking down at him instead.

“You’d think that with your attitude you’d be at the bottom of the popularity poll.” There’s no malice in your tone, and instead you find yourselves smiling at the other. You help him up easily before cleaning off yourself.

“You’re stronger than you look,” Bakugou compliments. Many thought that, and even had said that to you, and while most times it irks you, this time you feel pride.

“I’ve been training.” You stand taller.

“I’ve noticed.” It’s dark, but you swear the tips of his ears start to go red.

“Yeah?” You smile, and if anyone would’ve called it out, they might call it flirty. “Didn’t realize you’ve been watching.”

“Shaddup,” He laughs and crosses his arms, one still clad in the compression sleeve, the ropes of muscle more prominent in his chest and biceps. “Everyone has been noticing.”

“Really,” you cross your arms and grin. “Everyone?”

“Ever since Elf Ears fucked off on his mission, everyone has noticed you been trolling for night shifts.” He’s right of course, not that you’d freely admit to him. Your restless energy has boiled over and you’ve been picking up more shifts. Shamefully you’ve felt free.

“Not tonight, though.” Tap your shoes against the sidewalk, ready to run. Whatever confidence you had in front of him is fading quickly, and your head is dizzy with the scent of caramel and musk wafting from him.

“No.” Bakugou agrees, watching you carefully. “Not tonight.”

Electricity pulses through the space between you both, and you decide it’s time to end this interaction.

“You okay?” He asks again. The familiar pangs of distress and love floods into your chest and guilt starts to sting you at your core.

Yes. “No.”

“My shift just ended,” Bakugou says nonchalantly, shrugging. “Want to get a drink?”

No . “Yes.”

-(-)-

Drinks didn’t mean what you thought. You and Bakugou walked down the lamp lit streets in silence. A third person could walk between you both, you thought to yourself. You made sure to not pay any attention to his frame, you tried your best to not compare him to your fiancé. All day you haven’t heard from Tamaki, not that you expected him to contact you during a mission. But as you and Katsuki walk to get drinks, you realize it’s the first time in months that you haven’t been riddled with anxiety over your partner.

“This isn’t a bar,” you step through the tea shop and give Katsuki a passing look.

“Never said it was, Bambi.” Your heart flutters at the nickname, yet you don’t give any of it away as you look around the tea shop. His eyes watch you taking it in, the decor that’s been outdated for about thirty years already and the countless porcelain tea cups being reflected by the hanging lights. “Pick a cup, then pick a tea.” Katsuki grabs a ceramic yunomi painted with the colors of a sunset. You bite back a smile, remembering how much he favored the color orange back in school. Not much has changed.

“Hōchija, please.” He sets his cup down and gives a polite nod to the younger boy behind the wooden counter.

Your eyes scan across the once white now faded yellow menu, “May I get the sencha please?”

It’s quiet aside from the music playing the top 100 over the speakers, and then both of you take a seat at the bar. The younger barista hums while measuring out the dried tea leaves, the two of you doing your best to ignore the warmth from your shoulders touching lightly. A few minutes pass and your yunomi is handed back filled with hot tea, it’s heat spreads across the palm of your hand and you ignore the way it stings. It’s delicious.

“This is amazing,” you give a smile to your barista and he bows his head with a shy smile. “How did you hear about this place?”

Bakugou sets his tea back down and you catch the smell of charcoal, vaguely you wonder if it’s the remnants of his shift and you inch closer. “My pops would take me here,” Katsuki’s voice is low and you lean in to catch his words. “It’s the only damned place that we went to that didn’t involve someone screaming at each other. He told me once, ‘Katsuki-chan every cup you drink is one drink closer, I hope, to calming the fuck down.’” Your snort is sudden and loud, and while you struggle to keep your laughter down, you miss the way Katsuki smiles at you before taking another sip of his tea.

“Did it work?” You smile at him, not wanting to think about your chest warming and deciding it’s from the tea.

“I think so.” He answers truthfully, this time he glares when you laugh. “What?” Bakugou sets his tea cup down almost too roughly on the wooden counter, and you notice the same compression band on his left arm still.

Shaking your head and holding your hands up to your defense, you giggle. “The amount of articles I’ve read of the ‘Great Dynamite Hero’-,” your fingers mine the air quotes, “-having his blowouts. It’s hilarious.”

“Didn’t realize you were keeping track of me.” Your eyes look up and find that his are already tracing your features, the curve of your jaw and the tip of your nose. How long have you been this close to him? Close enough to see that he hasn’t slept in a while and close enough to briefly wonder if his lips would taste like burned sugar too.

“I haven’t been. You’re usually on the front page,” your voice wobbles and you shift farther from him. “Tamaki and I like to read the paper together.” At the sound of your fiancé’s name, Bakugou gives a slight nod and shifts back too. Your fingers ghost over your ring. You catch him looking at the silver band briefly. Subconsciously you wish you haven’t said anything at all, and you swipe your thumb over your ring.

The conversation dies, and when Bakugou pays, you go home to try and sleep.

-(-)-

“What happened to your soulmate?” You ask Tamaki, who has gotten back from his trip now, over breakfast. You watch his face wince, the pain of her loss still stinging even after decades. Shame takes its place quickly over the jealousy you feel for him, to have someone you love so much that every piece of you belongs to them and them you.

“She… died. In a car accident.” Tamaki picks at his pancakes, doused in maple syrup. “When we were five.”

Shame burns hotter for you now. “That young?” Tamaki nods, taking a bite of the breakfast he made for you both. “You must’ve barely met her by that point.”

He smiles sadly, “She used to be in my class with Mirio and I. At first, I thought I was just having dreams about school. I used to beg my parents to not send me to bed, I would get hives just thinking about school being in my dreams again.”

“How did you know she was your soulmate?” You think back to all the times in your life that you’ve asked this question. To your partners over the years who didn’t have their soulmates anymore or tried to cheat the system. The friends you had who swore to be single but fate gave them an emptiness to be filled by their love.

And now him. When you and Tamaki started dating, you had the talk with him. The talk you had with everyone. You don’t have a soulmate. You won’t be fatefully theirs, they won’t be yours. If you have an assigned soulmate, please don’t waste my time. The way he looked when you said this, the immensable sadness that washed over his features before giving you a small smile. His words were simple, enough to end the topic and enough to scare you from asking more. Well, good thing I don’t have a soulmate anymore.

“We talked for hours in our dreams,” he sighs at the memory. “I learned things about her that I couldn’t have known if I didn't actually talk to her, so it was pretty much solid. Mirio didn’t meet his soulmate in real life until after high school, they both decided to wait and then exchange numbers. He couldn’t stop jumping and cheering when he heard their voice on the receiver,” Tamaki laughs and looks back at you with a melancholy smile. “You also just know. It’s like suddenly, your body just isn’t yours. It feels like you’re being pulled to them and as much as you want to escape, you can’t run. You don’t want to.”

“What was her name?”

He pauses. “Shinju.” There’s a softness in his voice you haven’t heard before, and you wonder what Tamaki’s life would’ve been like if his soulmate hadn’t died. Maybe they’d even be heroes together, fighting villains side by side with an unspeakable bond that no one could penetrate. He wouldn’t have a partner who would settle for less out of fear of being let go for someone else. He wouldn’t have someone who is a shell of who they are, destined to-

Destined for what?

You don’t know what destiny has for you anymore. Before you were destined to be alone. But now Katuski appears in your dreams, sitting under fruit trees that you always wanted to have in your backyard, never facing you. Or he's by the ocean with waves softly crashing in front of him, warm sand underneath you both.

Before, you accepted that you would be alone. You refused for anyone to tell you that you must feel empty inside, for how else can anyone live without a beloved fucking soulmate? You told them to go fuck themselves, you proved them wrong by becoming a pro-hero despite having no natural goddamn cheerleader and you did it with a beaming ass smile and the ego that weighed more than what All Might could bench.

You were fine. You were happy.

Until you made yourself small.

You aren’t empty inside. You’ve made yourself small.

Tamaki was dreamy, he was shy and dreamy and sweet and romantic in all of his awkward ways. You allowed your light to be diminished under his shadow.

Because eventually, all those people pitying you for being so alone, got to you. You’re human after all, isn’t it normal to feel melancholy when you see a couple laughing and holding hands? Isn’t it normal to wish to have someone love all of you, imperfections included? Isn’t it normal to want to have somebody be there for you? Isn’t it normal to not want to go to bed and wonder what it is like to have someone hold you? You weren’t as tough as you thought. You felt like you let down those people you met in forums for those without soulmates, the civilians and heroes who never was bestowed a soulmate who said “Fuck them, I’m my own person” and never even wanted to date. They were complete because they had family, friends, a career, sexy one night stands. They could rely on themselves and no one else.

You don’t know where you fall anymore.

-(-)-

283 notes · View notes

bokutoslittlebird · 3 years

Text

Peter, Paul, and Mary

Alpha!Bokuto x Omega!female!reader x Alpha!Akaashi

Warnings: Omegaverse things [heats, ruts], alcohol, noncon/dubcon [coercion], implied mlm interaction [Bokuto x Akaashi], wlw interaction [Yukie x reader], threesome, fingering, lots of licking, blowjob, biased towards Bokuto, cunnilingus [with Yukie], bit of nipple play, asphyxiation

Kabukichō is well-known for it’s lively nighttime activities, hushed whispers of those who work in those frowned upon businesses. Even if the businesses seem shady, they care about their workers. Whether you’re singing lustful songs amidst a smoking crowd, sinful desires behind a curtain and closed doors, or even looking for a show to go with your dinner, every worker there is doing it of their own will and have safety measures in place to keep that.

There’s one place, down the lantern-lit streets and past the sweaty, common brothel that most people attend. Pink, purple, and red lights flicker and welcome guests into the building, one similar to a large western-styled house. Yet, upon entering, the display is one unlike anywhere else. The host offers services of the Omegas and what is and is not allowed. Tables have poles in the centers, a larger stage that offers seats of two rows, ones who come for a show, and two poles for dancers.

It’s an expensive place, offering brothel rooms for Omegas to service guests for 50,000¥ and even having an available VIP room for 100,000¥ for individuals who want a luxurious show just for them. Dancers can dance behind glass or in a cage, starting at 7,000¥ and can be removed at a few of 10,000¥. Only Omegas are allowed to work as dancers and performers, just as only Betas are allowed to work the kitchen and host positions. Alphas come in for a nice treat, expecting to get a show from their favorite Omega and pay for their services to relieve tension. Some Alphas try to come in during their ruts, but are turned away. This is not a brothel, this is a strip club that offers brothel services.

Working there isn’t as exhausting as it sounds. Tips start at 1,000¥ and can go up to as much as 50,000¥ on a regular night. The nights VIP rooms are reserved, workers find themselves getting tipped luxuriously by rich Alphas and Betas who are looking for a good time. Even someone as simple as you can work there and get a good wad of bills in your pocket, getting to go home and finally sleep after the exhausting night’s work.

Akaashi’s asleep when you get home, but Bokuto’s awake and humming as he cooks his breakfast. The showers at Akai Fukurō wash away all the unfamiliar scents of Alphas, even the ones who asked for brothel services, so he doesn’t seem too concerned as you enter the apartment. “Rough night?”

“Yeah, lots of tables requested me to serve them. Busy and exhausting,” you yawn at the end of your statement, rubbing tired eyes. Bokuto chuckles, a nice and comforting sound after the music of the nightlife.

“Maybe you should request daytime shifts? Graveyard shifts are strange for a waitress, anyways,” his concern shows in his voice, but you smile and wave him off.

“I sleep all day and work all night. I’m not ready to change my schedule anytime soon.” Neither Bokuto nor Akaashi know of your actual job. They think you work at a 24/7 restaurant in Kabukichō and not as a stripper, which is preferable. You don’t think you could bear the thought of them knowing you’re one of the people who sell their body for money. The work is looked down on, so you wouldn’t be surprised if Akaashi and Bokuto had that same state of mind.

“Well, I think you should at least consider it,” he smiles at you, then turns back to the stove. “Want some eggs?”

“Sure!”

The day goes by as they all do, but an unspoken tension hangs in the air. Living with two Alphas is straining, always having to keep your emotions in check so they don’t give into instincts. Even having alone time is rare, with Akaashi mostly working from home when Bokuto is gone. Living with the two isn’t stressful, but your heat cycle lines up with their rut cycles, which forces you three to find alternate living arrangements. You always leave the day before your heat starts, knowing that an Alpha’s instinct can tell if an Omega is ready to breed the day it begins. Even if your cycle begins at 9:00 at night, 9:00 in the morning rolls around and you’ll have Alphas begging to mount you and stuff you full.

Although, you’re not entirely opposed to the idea.

Akaashi and Bokuto are very attractive Alphas and are very loving to you, as if you were family. Your feelings for them were both intense, but you forced those feelings down a long time ago. With the way your job is, having a boyfriend or two is out of the question, which is why you are looking into leaving permanently. It hasn’t come up to either of the boys, but you might have to live with Yukie or at the club. They do offer rooms for Omegas, whether they need to freshen up or can’t be at home for personal reasons.

When Akaashi enters the kitchen, you find yourself slinking away. Bokuto’s scent gets stronger, just as Akaashi’s does. Their ruts are going to start soon, so they’re practically at each other’s throats. Despite their close friendship, your existence in their lives can change their demeanor when it comes to their ruts. Akaashi doesn’t talk, but he does nod and slightly bow to both you and Bokuto while he makes his morning tea. With the breakfast finished, you’re off to your bedroom to get some shuteye, knowing your upcoming week will involve lots of hours being awake and active.

Akai Fukurō has security for all their Omegas and safety is their priority. An Omega in heat can still work, but they become more vulnerable to pregnancy that can risk damage and harm to the relationships outside and inside of the club. Simple means to prevent pregnancy are optional, but there is always a possibility of it not working. The only effective method is not having Omegas offer brothel services while in heat.

The rooms on the second floor are completely brothel rooms, but the rooms on the third floor offer a room to stay in for the Omegas. However, similar to the dance stages, each brothel room has the ability to separate it with glass. Separation between the bed and the couch, where guests sit back and can watch the show. On the other side of the glass, an Omega presents themself on the bed and pleases themself while encouraging the guest to do the same. However, the fee for this situation is merely 35,000¥, with an extra 10,000¥ if there are two Omegas behind the glass. Putting on a show for the guest, two Omegas will pleasure themselves and each other and will accept requests of what to do and still can receive tips.

Most Omegas who engage in these activities are those with a close friend working there or coworker who is trusted. Yukie is the one who brought you here, so you both become highly requested during shows of this type. You’ve learned to be much more submissive while letting someone else take the reins, while Yukie has learned to take control every once in a while. An Omega such as you and Yukie need to be stimulated during the heat cycle, so it would make sense to have a safe alternative than have an Alpha or Beta take care of such vulnerable Omegas.

With it being the day of your heat, you’ve left the apartment and settled into the room you’ll be staying in for the week. Yukie rooms with you, her own luggage on her side. She lives with two Betas, so she only stays here for her own pleasure. When the fire of your heat settles deep in your gut, the slick pooling in your panties, you’re aware of the position you’re in. Your heat has officially begun and you need to take your stance in the brothel room. Once you’re in and have positioned yourself on the bed, Yukie follows in behind you with her heat soon about to begin. When she wraps her arms around you and her lips find yours, you can smell the beginning of her own heat. The familiar sound of the glass shield rising from the ground is in the back of your mind, only white noise, as your hands find themselves delving into her pink panties. The glass clicks into place, the pink light coming on and the door opening to have an Alpha enter the room. Settling down on the couch, he has a drink beside him as he watches with interest the scene playing out before him.

With the door officially being locked, the pink lights dimming as a low red joins them, you’re being pushed back on the bed and Yukie’s hands are diving into your own panties. Her hand works its wonders, your easily stimulated nerves finding the friction they so desperately crave. Your hand is removed from her panties, your nails digging into the sheets of the bed. A few rubs on your drenched clit, two fingers sliding up and down before diving into your pussy and suddenly you’re crying out for her touch even more, tears beading on your eyelashes. Licking her lips, you can tell her own heat has started, pulling her face to yours as you mesh your lips together. She moans into your mouth, breaking the kiss and putting her fingers in your mouth, letting your tongue lap at your own juices coating them.

Yukie’s heat has finally begun, so you lay her down and press kisses down her skin, tongue lapping at the sweat from the intense scent and heat of the room. Her eyes are focused on the Alpha in front of her, his hard cock in his hand as he pumps it, groaning. She smiles, then blows him a kiss, only to be broken with a moan as your tongue swipes over her folds. She’s just as soaked as you, practically dripping with slick as your lips press kisses to her folds, tongue flicking against the hot skin occasionally. Her plea of ‘more’ has your lips clasping around her clit and sucking, getting her to tug at your hair, only to let go and hold onto the sheets, one hand tugging and grabbing at her breast. Using your tongue to dive into her pussy and swipe along her folds, lips sucking on her clit, she’s absolutely lost in bliss from you just using your mouth. The introduction of two of your fingers in her has her back arching, crying out your name as she releases over your face. Removing your fingers, you use them to wipe any excess off and let her taste herself, her moaning around your fingers before you remove them and press your lips to hers once more.

Back home, Bokuto and Akaashi find their own ruts hitting hard and fast. Akaashi goes into your room to grab your dirty laundry you left behind, as he promised to wash them before you got back. The scent of your unwashed clothes is too much for the Alpha, his cock springing to life as he notices the black, lace panties on the top. Picking them up is wrong, but you’re not here and he can wash away his scent. He imagines what you’d be like, wearing those panties for him and begging for his cock, only him. It’s almost too much, him leaving your dirty clothes behind as he takes the panties with him, entering his room only to slam the door. Behind the door, he doesn’t lock it, too focused on stripping himself down bare as he inhales your scent, lingering on the panties. He’s so focused on your panties and rubbing his cock, the front door opening is ignored and he finds himself falling into the daydream and fantasy of you spreading your legs, whining for his cock. The mental image of your cunt dripping, desperate for him and all he can give you has his hand moving faster, a groan as he finally reaches his end, coming into his hand. Looking down, he separates his fingers to watch the liquid drip down onto his thigh and floor. Coming down from his high, he finally notices a different scent on your panties, pushing them back to his nose.

Bokuto went out for a jog, arriving home just before his rut hits. With the collar, he’s able to suppress his scent in public so he doesn’t disturb strangers, but that doesn’t help hold his rut back. Sniffing the air, he smells faint traces of you, his sadness immediate when he remembers you’re gone. But he can smell Akaashi — deep into his rut. Passing by your room, Bokuto finds himself needy and dives into the room, shutting the door and locking it behind him. Taking off the collar, he lets his scent envelop your room as he lays himself down on your bed, stuffing his nose into your pillows. Your scent is strongest there, getting his cock hard as he whines, pulling down his shorts and boxers, large hand grasping his cock as he inhales more of your scent. He’s sure Akaashi’s indulging in his own fantasies of you, but he quickly pushes that away and focuses on a common fantasy of his — you begging for his cock while he drills himself into you. It’s such a common fantasy of his, but he loves imagining how tight you’d be, how loud you’d be, how you would wiggle your hips and cry out for more, desperate for more of him. Rolling his eyes into his head, he’s soon spilling his cum against your sheets, chest heaving as he imagines what it’d look like with his cum oozing out of you, how you’d whine for more. It’s enough to have him gritting his teeth, ready to go once more.

The weekend after your heat cycle, you’re heading back to the apartment with triple the amount of money you usually get from working the week. Yukie bid you adieu, going to her own home and sending you off with a prayer your roommates will be finished with their own cycles. The crisp morning air was nice, the beginnings of Autumn and a new volleyball season, meaning Bokuto would be busier in the upcoming weeks. Remembering how bright and cheerful he was whenever you came home, it made your chest ache. He wouldn’t be cooking breakfast when you got home and Akaashi wouldn’t be making the three of you breakfast before you head off to work anymore.

Once the haze from your heat settled, you confessed to Yukie that you were planning on getting a new apartment. Somewhere close to work, but you didn’t want to live with Bokuto and Akaashi anymore. She told you that she’d be there for emotional support, telling you that if they gave you a hard time then she’d send Kaori and Konoha over there to knock in some sense. Despite their status as being below your roommates, Bokuto and Akaashi listened when Konoha and Kaori scolded them. It hasn’t happened since Bokuto tried to jump you, with his rut beginning earlier than expected, but you hope it won’t ever happen again.

The lack of Bokuto and Akaashi’s scent outside the complex told you their ruts had ended. Sighing with relief, you unlock and push open the door, revealing a wrecked apartment living room. A common scene to come home to, seeing as Bokuto and Akaashi are both territorial Alphas that end up finding themselves trying to establish dominance over each other. You’ve never witnessed their relationship go beyond a close friendship, but a part of you is curious to see just how territorial they can get — or how rough they are with each other.

Shaking the thoughts out of your head, you move to your room, only to find it occupied. Bokuto lays on your bed, hidden under the covers but no doubt naked, with Akaashi curling into his chest. It’s such a sweet scene, you immediately take out your phone to snap a picture at them. With the dark of your room, the flash activates and wakes both of them up, you whispering curses to yourself while trying to apologize. “Sorry! You guys just look so sweet together, didn’t mean to wake you guys up,”

“‘S fine.. how are you?” Bokuto grumbles out, moving to turn towards you but stopping, adjusting himself properly and removing himself from Akaashi. Soon enough, his arms are wrapping around yours. It’s peaceful, holding him in your arms while he tries to wake up from his slumber. “You smell weird,”

“I’ve been with Yukie. She’s probably still on me,” you lie. You took a shower after your heat, so the scent is probably the sleazy Alphas you were passing on your way out. “By the way, why are you guys in my room?”

“Mm.. missed you,” he responds, before shoving his nose deeper into your neck. The bed moving takes your attention away, eyes catching on Akaashi who goes to hug you as well. You laugh at him, finding them both to be quite adorable so early in the morning. It isn’t until Akaashi pulls away and leaves the bed do you notice that something is around his neck.

“‘Kaashi, what’s that?” You point to your own neck, but Akaashi just shuts the door and locks it. “Um, Akaashi?”

“One of our collars. We didn’t want to scare you away,” he finally responds, moving closer to you. Out of curiosity, your fingers go down to Bokuto’s neck to find his own collar in place. If they have on their collars, it means that you can’t smell their full scents, just a watered down version.

They could still be in their ruts and you wouldn’t know.

“Oh— Oh my god, I-I have to go,” you get out, panic laced in your voice. Trying to get up from the bed, you find yourself pulled back onto the mattress with Bokuto’s arms wound tightly around you. “Bokuto, please, let me-”

“When were you gonna tell us you wanted to leave?” His voice is no longer tired, but rather he sounds angry and sad, wounded. “I found the different apartments you were looking at. They’re all single bedroom apartments, which means you’re trying to leave,”

“That’s— I didn’t know.. how to tell you,” You confess. “I felt it was better for me to leave, so I have been looking for apartments. I’m only here because I needed help with bills, but I don’t need the help anymore, so-”

“Because you’re a stripper.” Akaashi’s voice scares you, the lack of emotion. Panic once more runs through you, attempting to flee Bokuto’s grasp but he holds you firm. “Your clothes have a faint trace of other Alphas. Your graveyard shift is because the clubs are open at night. The large amount of money you have in your dresser tells me the truth,” he continues. You attempt to refute, but he continues, making your heart drop. “I thought you were better than that.”

Before you can say anything, Bokuto beats you to it. “We can take care of you. We’re your Alphas, y’know? It upsets me that you’ve been whoring yourself out to others. How many Alphas have been inside you, huh? I wanted to be your first, little Omega. Now I have to clean you of those Alphas’ stench,” Bokuto growls out, keeping one arm firm around you while the other leaves. Struggling is futile, but the familiar click of the collar coming off makes you cough from the intensity of his scent.

Your worst fear came true: he’s in his rut.

Mixed with his arousal is anger and sadness, but you try to close your nose with your fingers to not smell him, feeling your own slick begin to coat your folds. Akaashi’s collar is soon coming off, his scent just as overwhelming as Bokuto’s as he hooks his fingers into your shorts. “Please understand us, [Y/N]. We just want to show you why you need to stay with us. We love you and don’t want anything bad to happen to you,”

“Akaashi, no, we can’t, this is wrong—”

“What’s wrong? Having two loving Alphas? Them wanting to protect you? Don’t hurt our feelings, [Y/N]. We know how you look at us, but you don’t need to hide your feelings anymore. You don’t have to choose, you can have both of us,” Bokuto murmurs, lips against your scent glands. Nudging his nose against your neck, he licks a hot stripe against your skin. “We can take care of you,”

“Just give into it,” Akaashi says. His tone is comforting, no longer void of emotion. Eyes shine with love in them, a gentle smile on his face as he leans down to press a kiss against your forehead. “We’ll make you feel good,”

“Please don’t leave us,” Bokuto says once more, his hold around you tightening. You heave a sigh, nodding as you relax your muscles. Both Alphas take that as their cue to continue with their ministrations. Akaashi has your shorts and panties off in an instant, Bokuto’s thick fingers rubbing at the sensitive skin between your legs. You find yourself relaxing into Bokuto’s hold, soft moans as he rubs your clit and brushes his finger against your opening, but he doesn’t push it in. No, Akaashi uses his long fingers to push into you, rubbing against your sensitive inner walls. A squirm here and there, but you pant heavily as he loosens up your walls, his lips pressing to your chest above your shirt. It was just a easy set of clothes to put on, some shorts and a t-shirt to get home in and sleep. The material is in their way, though, Bokuto’s fingers removing themselves from your clit and both of his hands tugging st the shirt.

“I can get-” you begin, only to be cut off by the material being ripped.

“No need,” Bokuto grunts, completely ripping the fabric off of your body. Now bare to both of them, you find your inner thighs coated in your arousal, Akaashi’s fingers removed as he licks them clean.

“Do you want to go first, Bokuto-san?” He offers, sitting in his heels. Bokuto gets eager, flipping you both over so he’s on top of you. “Remember, no knotting, Bokuto-san,”

“I know, ‘Kaashi,” he chirps, licking the sweat off your skin as he rubs his hard cock against your drenched folds. Akaashi sits beside you, guiding your head to his own hard cock, eager for attention. “We can save that for her next heat, right?”

“Mhm, since she’ll be spending it with us,” Akaashi’s hand caresses your cheek, smiling down at you. “Isn’t that right? We can still invite Yukie if you want, but we’re all about you, darling,” his hand moves up your cheek, into your hair and grabs the strands, tugging your head back. “Open wide,”

Akaashi pushes your open mouth on his cock, forcing you to take quite a bit so quickly. His tip hitting the back of your throat has you gagging, but soon you’re moaning as Bokuto inches himself into you. “Ah, you feel so good..” he moans, licking his lips. “It’s better than I imagined,” his hips buck involuntarily as he says that, hands gripping your hips as he forces himself to not force his entire length into you. Although you’re sure he wouldn’t be bigger than what you’ve had before, his girth and his continuous push into your cunt has you seeing stars, moaning around Akaashi as your eyes roll back. Bokuto’s knot is pushed against your entrance, but it doesn’t go in. He sighs, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your back before he rears his hips back only to slam them against your ass, your hands flying out to hold onto Akaashi’s thighs as you jerk forward.

Bokuto and Akaashi don’t say much, both too focused on their respective holes. Akaashi keeps one hand in your hair, setting the pace as your tongue rubs against the underside of his cock and flicks over his slit. His other hand wipes at the tears cascading down your cheeks, eyes locking onto yours as he smiles, bring his hand to your nose and clamping down on it, preventing air from getting to your lungs. He doesn’t keep it there long, just enough to feel your throat constrict. With Bokuto thrusting into you, you need all the air you can get as he knocks the air out of your lungs. Akaashi doesn’t want you collapsing on them, letting you off his cock as you gulp down air and moan, pushing your ass back against Bokuto’s hips.

Bokuto is too focused on your body and indulging in his instincts to even acknowledge Akaashi right now. He lets groans and praises spill from his lips as they press into your shoulder, back, neck, anywhere they can reach. Hands tightly grip your hips, trailing from them to your breasts and pinching or tweaking the nipples, a stinging pain in his hips each time they slam against your skin, but he doesn’t care. He’s much too into it, eyes rolling as his hips buck and rut into your heat, tongue wetting his lips each time you let out a particular mewl, popping off of Akaashi to let them hear it. It just pushes him further, his cock getting thicker inside you before he’s whining out, telling you he’s gonna stuff you completely full of his seed.

With one more sharp thrust, Bokuto’s spilling himself into you, moaning as he ruts against the skin. The sensation of his cock completely still in you as his cum spills in has your walls clamping around him, making him hiss as you cream around his cock. You mewl around Akaashi, rolling your eyes back and catching the blush tinting his cheeks. Soon, your oxygen is cut off and Akaashi is forcing you completely down on his cock, save for the knot, letting out a perfect moan of his own while he paints your throat white.

Once the high has settled down, you’re lying on the bed, exhausted, with Bokuto’s arms around your waist. But Akaashi still has energy. “It’s my turn to indulge, darling. I’ve been holding myself back, so I hope you’re prepared,” the smirk accompanying his statement has your pussy clenching, Bokuto’s cum oozing from it and staining the sheets.

Author’s Note : Strip clubs in Japan are in the red light district (in Tokyo) so Akaashi works in Tokyo and Bokuto is a member of the MSBY Black Jackal which resides in Tokyo. I changed the canonverse so they could live in the same place to make things easier [I didn’t want to change Bokuto’s occupation] ; This is more than what was requested however the request gave me the excuse to write out a previous fantasy/daydream I’ve had with a few tweaks. So, thank you for requesting anon-chan ; brothels and strip clubs in Japan are different from the ones in America, so this involved a bit of imagination and research. The brothel/strip club hybrid is called Akai Fukurō which translates to Red Owl (get it bc it’s in the red light district? And BokuAka are owls? I’ll see myself out)

#BB.Kinky #BB.Dark #haikyuu smut #tw.alcohol #tw.noncon #haikyuu omegaverse #Mr. Kōtarō #Mr. Keiji #bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #tw.dubcon #cw.brothel #cw.strip clubs #BB.Requests #Bokuto.Spice #Akaashi.Spice #haikyuu x reader smut #BB.🐾

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atlafan · 4 years

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Night Shift - One Shot

a/n: back at it again with another Halloween themed fic! This was inspired by an ask requesting Harry and Y/N both work/meet in the ER. Slight twist on it, but I hope you like it! Reblogs and feedback are super helpful! (not proofread)

Warnings: friends to lovers, smut at the end

Words: 6.8K

Becoming a doctor took a lot of hard work dedication. Countless sleepless nights, a large debt to pay back, finding a hospital to become a resident in, and countless seminars to go to, to make sure all practices were up to date. At first, Y/N hated working the graveyard shift. She rarely got to see friends or family, she was getting minimal amounts of sleep because, let’s face it, sleeping during the day never worked out the way you wanted it to. However, she stopped minding it so much when one of the nicest nurses took his turn on the overnight shifts.

Nurse Styles was usually the voice of reason. He could calm any patient down, and the kids in pediatrics loved him. He always had a lollypop ready to go. All of the nurses took turns with the different shifts so it was fair for everyone. He had heard of Dr. Y/L/N, but had never met her. She was newer to the hospital, a white coat, but still baby-faced. Harry really enjoyed being a nurse, he didn’t want to be the person in there doing surgery, but he liked being able to get things started, and ease someone into the more difficult things. He had a way of administering bad news, and easing the pain from it. His broad shoulders were perfect for crying on, and if it was a kid he needed to prep for getting their appendix out, he held their hand the entire way to the operating room.

Y/N was just getting in, putting her things in her breakroom cubby when Harry walked in. He smiles at her, and she smiles back as he also puts his things away.

“Chilly out there tonight.” He says as he puts his scrubs on over his long sleeve under armor. She only looked for a second, his arm muscles were certainly defined. “I don’t think we’ve properly met yet, I’m Harry.” He extends her hand and she takes it.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, lucky for you I’ll be your nurse for the next couple of months.”

“You seem a little too chipper about working overnight.” She chuckles as she gets her white coat on and stethoscope around her neck.

“I don’t mind it.” He shrugs. “A lot of the other nurses have spouses and kids they rarely get to see, so it’s only fair I take my turn on the overnight stuff. I usually take it this time of year anyways.”

“Why’s that?”

“The Halloween crazies start trickling towards the end of September. Think the staff likes having me as extra muscle or whatever.”

Her face pales as she looks at him. She had completely forgotten about Halloween. Last year she worked during the day, but she had heard about all of the nonsense from the entire weekend. Drunk people needing their stomach pumped, car wrecks, people on drugs, etc.

“So, what’s your specialty? You’re not a surgeon are you?” He breaks her from her trance.

“No, I’m not a surgeon, just a regular old doctor. I almost ended up in maternity like a lot of female doctors, but it wasn’t for me.” They both walk into the main area so they can get briefed for the night.

Harry says hello to the other nurses at the desk, and he takes his seat to login into the computer. There was another doctor on the overnight shifts, Dr. Gilles, and Y/N really couldn’t stand him. He was one of those doctors who was sort of rude to the nurses because he had been at the hospital for a while, but he was handsome so a lot of them didn’t even care. He would flirt with Y/N when he’d get the chance, but she didn’t really like it. She’d seen Scrubs, she didn’t need the drama that comes with hooking up with a coworker. Not to mention the guy was, like, forty, and she was only pushing thirty. To some that may not be a big age difference, but it weirded her out nonetheless. It weirded her out more when he’d catch her flirting with some of the younger nurses.

“Evening everyone.” Dr. Gilles. “He says as he walks up to the desk. “Quiet so far?”

“Pretty much.” Nurse Halleran says. “Hope it stays that way. You’ve got a couple of people you just need to check in on.” She hands him a few charts and he nods as he takes them. “How are you, Dr. Y/L/N?”

“Good.” She says as she looks over her cuticles. She feels his eyes burn into her, and she fiddles with some of the pens on the desk. “Nurse Styles, back on the graveyard, huh?”

“Yup.” Harry says with a fake smile. He also did not like Dr. Gilles. He felt protective over the other nurses, and none of them felt uncomfortable by Dr. Gilles, but he was a married man who openly flirted with people, and that kind of behavior just didn’t fly with Harry. “Dr. Y/L/N, one of your patients needs their vitals checked. Young thing, coming down from a bladder and kidney infection.”

“Alright, let’s go.” Harry hands her the chart and she looks it over as they walk to where the patient was sleeping.

Bethany Martin, ten years old, bladder and kidney infection. Another doctor wanted to size her up for an appendix removal, but it was Y/N that discovered that it wasn’t the child’s appendix. The girl had told her the pain had moves from the front of her stomach, to her side, and then to her back. She got major brownie points from the administration for making that catch.

Her and Harry slowly go into the room. Her father was sleeping in one of the fold out chairs provided. He wakes up when he hears the door open.

“Hello, Mr. Martin.” Y/N whispers with a smile. “We’re just going to check on Beth’s vitals, see how her fever’s doing, alright?”

“Sure thing, thank you.” He stands up and goes over to his daughter to help her wake up a little.

“Hmm.” The girl slowly opens her eyes, and then she smiles when she sees Y/N. See, Beth was scared that she was going to get cut open, so she was beyond grateful that she didn’t have to have surgery. “Hello.” She says sleepily.

“Hi, sweetheart, I need to check a few things, would that be alright?” Y/N asks.

“Yes.”

“Hi, Beth, how’s your IV feeling in that hand?” Harry asks her.

“It’s itchy, Nurse Harry.”

He smiles at her. A lot of the kids would call him that instead of Nurse Styles, he thought it was sweet.

“Think we should switch it to your other hand then.”

“Why’s it in her hand and not in her arm?” Y/N questions.

“We had a tough time…this one likes to pull away.” Harry explains and winks at Beth which makes her giggle.

Y/N let’s Harry switch out the IV. She lets Beth hold her hand as she winces from the needle. Once he’s done, Y/N checks everything else. She has Beth roll onto her stomach so she can feel around her back.

“I haven’t been as achy.” Beth says as she gets settled on her back once more. “It still hurts a little though.”

“Mm, I bet. Took us a bit to figure things out with you, but you seem to be doing a lot better. Should only need to be here for another few days. We’ll come back to check on you later this morning.”

“Thank you.” She snuggles back into her blankets and slowly falls back asleep.

Mr. Martin thanks Y/N and Harry before they leave, and she they both go to wash their hands at one of the sink stations.

“Nurse Harry, huh? Do all the little girls call you that?” Y/N smirks.

“Why, jealous?” He bumps his hip to hers before grabbing a paper towel to dry his hands. She rolls her eyes at him, and he chuckles. “The kids just tend to call me that, I don’t mind it.”

“It must ease them a bit more to be on a first name basis, I should remember that. I hate seeing kids in pain, I’m glad she’s doing better.”

“I know it sucks, but I actually like working with the kids more. They at least listen to us. Some of these adult patients…they fight us on every little thing sometimes.” They make their way back to the desk.

“Dr. Y/L/N?” Nurse Stevens says to her. “I’m going on a coffee run, would you like anything?”

“You’re an angel, yes”, she reaches into her pocket for some loose singles, “just a regular with a little cream, no sugar, thank you.”

“Harry?” She says to him.

“Brought my thermos, but thanks Ellie.” He smiles at her and she nods before going on her way.

“She’s the best, I’ve worked with her during the day before.” Y/N says to Harry.

“Yeah, Ellie and I came on together.”

“Oh, really?”

Harry hums his response as he types some notes into the computer. Harry and Ellie had a bit of a past, nothing serious, but they had hooked up on occasion. Being a nurse meant working a lot of long days, and that left little room for a social life or companionship. They may or may not have taken advantage of the beds in the room adjacent to the breakroom a few times, but that was a year or so ago. She had started seeing someone, so they ended things amicably.

“Why just the cream and no sugar?” He asks to change the subject.

“Well, for a while I was doing the keto thing, which is absolute rubbish and I never should have done it, but I got into the habit of not adding sugar to things. I don’t like the taste of black coffee, it’s too bitter, so the cream helps. I don’t miss the sugar, in fact, I can’t stand really sugary drinks in general.”

“Why’d you do the keto in the first place?”

“Oh, I was looking to lose some weight before a wedding I had to go to. I was a bridesmaid so I just wanted to look nice in the pictures, you know? It works when you stick to it, but as soon as I stopped I gained most of it back. Deprivation diets are never a good idea, and I knew it, but did it anyways because it was a quick way to do things.” He goes to say something, but decides against it. Her head tilts as she can tell he’s withholding something. “Go ahead, tell me as a doctor it was stupid of me to jump on a fad diet.” She sighs and leans on the tall desk.

“No, I was just going to say…” He blushes slightly. “Well, I just feel bad that you thought you needed to lose any weight because you…well…you must know how beautiful you are as is.”

She stands up straight. She literally just met this man tonight, what was going on? Just as she was about to say something, Ellie comes back with the coffee.

“Here you go.” She smiles.

“Oh, thank you.” Y/N takes the coffee. “I’m gonna go take a walk to the other nurse’s station, see how they’re doing. Page me if you need anything.”

Harry watches her walk away and he groans with his head in his hands.

“Don’t tell me.” Ellie smirks. “You have a crush on Dr. Y/L/N…shocking.” Ellie giggles and rolls her eyes.

“I just met her, I don’t have a crush on her. But I may have just said something inappropriate.”

“You?!” Ellie was shocked. “Harry, you’re, like, the nicest person I know. What did you say?”

“I just told her she was beautiful.”

“It’s not like it’s a lie, she’s rather pretty. Seems to take care of herself. It’s not an easy thing to do, especially on these shifts.”

“I know! It just felt weird after I said it. I don’t wanna be like Dr. Gilles, you know?”

“Please.” She scoffs. “You’re nothing like him.”

Y/N does her nightly rounds, checking on her various patients. A few people come in that need to be checked right away, but other than that things were quiet. Around six in the morning she and Harry go to check on little Beth again.

“Definitely only need you here another couple of nights. Keep getting those fluids in, and this fever will go away in no time.” Y/N says.

The girl nods at her tiredly before falling back asleep. Y/N helps out with some last minute patients before going to the breakroom to change. Harry was in there taking his shirt off. She tries not to stare as he pulls a sweatshirt on over himself. She wouldn’t have minded a few more moments to examine his tattoos. She knew he had a few just from his left hand alone, but shit, he had them all over his chest and stomach!

“Well, see you tonight. Hope you can get some sleep.” Harry says to her.

“Same to you.” She smiles and goes into her locker.

“I hope, uh, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable earlier in the night…” He rubs the back of his neck.

“You didn’t, it’s fine…I’m just one of those people that has a tough time taking a compliment. Um, it happened to me in school a lot too, like, if someone told me I was smart or something, you know?”

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure.”

“I appreciate that, Harry, thank you.”

He nods and heads out. On his way home he realizes he’s far too awake to be able to fall asleep, so when he gets into his flat he takes a sleeping pill, and nestles down with a cup of tea while he watches a little TV. Once his eyes feel tired he heads to bed, getting cozy under his blankets, and eventually passing out.

Y/N does something similar. She definitely takes a sleeping pill before jumping into a warm shower. She pulls her blackout curtains, and gets into bed. Her eyelids feel heavier and heavier as she listens to a podcast, and she slowly falls asleep.

Things went on like that for the next couple of weeks. Harry would often assist Y/N on her rounds. He liked that she wasn’t one of those snooty doctors that discounted the nurses, she really seemed to value their opinions, even consulting with them when she needed to. They became fast friends too, often eating together or taking coffee breaks at the same time. She learned that Harry was a couple of years younger than her, and he had been at this hospital for around five years. He explained he liked working at a hospital rather than a smaller practice so he could help more people, and she said she felt the same way.

“Maybe when I’m, like fifty, I’ll settle and open up my own practice. But only because I might not have the same spring in my step.” She chuckles as they both sit and enjoy some coffee.

“You can really sprint when you need to! You were incredible when that guy came in with that allergic reaction the other night.”

“I was internally freaking out the whole time to be honest with you. I was glad to have you there to help me intubate him.”

“Feel like I can do that with my eyes closed now.” He laughs and finishes his warm drink. “I hate to be one of those people, but you’re looking a little tired tonight.”

“Oh, that’s because I never left this morning. I worked all day, took a nap, and then got right back on it.”

“Y/N, that’s not okay. You can’t do your job properly if you’re tired.”

“I know, but we were short staffed, and I was only going to stay a couple of hours, but I got wrapped up with a couple of people. I’m fine, honest, I’ll have a good sleep when I get home later.”

“Shit like that used to happen to me all the time. I’d work sixteen hour days, and then they’d yell at me because I was getting so much overtime, and I’d tell them to hire more bloody people then. It was infuriating. Then you think the place is gonna fall apart without you when you finally do get some time off.”

“Literally! I think that’s why I got stuck here for so long. I have the next couple of days off, though, so I’m looking forward to that.”

“Yeah? Any big plans?”

“No.” She scoffs. “Not unless you consider binging a fuck ton of television while eating a gallon of ice cream big plans.”

“Depends on the show, what’s on the docket to be binged?”

“I’ve been meaning to sit down and watch Ratched. I’ve heard some mixed reviews, but I’m just so intrigued.”

“Mm, nothing better than a show about a crazy nurse.” He rolls his eyes.

“Aw, feeling a little misrepresented?” She smirks.

“Maybe a wee bit. Let me know if it’s worth the watch, though, yeah?”

“Definitely.” She finishes up her coffee and sighs. “Back to it I suppose.”

“Go lay down if you want, we’re not busy.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m catching a second wind.” She stands up and shakes her body out. “See, awake and ready to-“, her beeper goes off, “Shit, some teenagers were just brought in.”

They both hurry out of the breakroom, and go to where they’re needed. Three teenage boys were laying in hospital beds, clearly in pain.

“Alright, what seems to be the problem here?” Y/N says as Harry works on taking their vitals.

“We…fell off the water tower.” One of them says.

She sighs and starts checking for bumps and bruises. She doesn’t ask why they were there, she was sure their parents would rip them a new one for that. A few sprained ankles, and one broken wrist, but nothing too serious otherwise. Y/N gives her instructions to Harry, and tells the boys they’ll need to switch off between aspirin and ibuprofen to help with pain and inflammation. Harry gets the broken wrist into a splint and sling, and gets the others settled as well.

“Isn’t this a little backwards?” One of them says to him after Y/N’s left. “Isn’t she supposed to be the nurse?”

“Well, considering that she went to school for a lot longer than I did, and probably has a lot more knowledge about the body than I do, I’d say she’s supposed to be the doctor.” Harry says.

“Isn’t it weird being a male nurse though?”

“M’not a male nurse.” He makes some notes on the laptop he was using. “I’m just a nurse.” He closes the laptop and looks at the three of them. “Your parents should be here soon, hope you lot feel better, and be safer out there.”

It wasn’t the first time Harry got a comment like that, and it wouldn’t be the last. He didn’t go to school as premed and then go off to a fancy medical school. He majored in Allied Health in uni, and passed all his tests. That was it, and that was all he wanted to do. There was nothing wrong with that. He was proud of himself. He hoped Y/N was proud of herself too.

Flu shot season was in full swing, and there were usually a couple of days a year the hospital did walk-in appointments so people could come in easily to get them. Harry had picked up a shift to administer them. Y/N had come in to be on call so one of the other doctors could have the day off. She smiles when she sees Harry in the cafeteria at lunch.

“Hey, you.” She says as she sits down. “Weird seeing you in the daylight.”

“Could say the same to you. What’s all this about? Don’t tell me you’re working another triple…” He raises an eyebrow at her.

“No, I swapped shifts with Dr. Jollas so she could have the day with her kids. What are you doing here today?”

“I’m on for the flu shots. It’s an easy enough shift to pick up.”

“Get a lot of people in for that?”

“Sure, tons.”

“That makes me happy to hear.” She sighs.

“How were your couple of days off? Did you watch your show?”

“I only watched about two episodes…there was a lot more gore than I was expecting.”

“Y/N…you’re a doctor…”

“Yes, and I can handle small amounts of blood, especially when I’m in the moment helping someone, but there was literally a scene where they were showing how lobotomies were done and a scene where this kid cut off his own arms, so it was a bit much for me. Not something I should be watching alone, anyways.”

“That’s gross.” Harry grimaces. “Don’t blame you for not getting through it.”

“So I ended up just re-watching The Office for the millionth time. It was perfect.” She chuckles. “Are you working all of Halloween weekend?”

“I am.” He nods. “I hope you’ll add some flare to your outfit. The kids like it when we do.”

“Some flare, huh?”

“I have these scrubs that have pumpkins, ghosts, and black cats on them.”

“Hm, I’ll have to think about what I can add. I have some earrings with witches on them, that could be fun.”

“As long as you get into the spirt somehow. We all decorate the nurse’s station and everything. Ellie usually brings in cupcakes too.”

“Speaking of her…” Y/N leans in a bit. “Did you catch the rock on her finger? I’m happy for her and all, but she said she’s only been with her fiancé for eight months. It’s a bit fast.”

“Well, they were casual before they made things official. She was, uh, seeing a couple of people, and then he asked her to get serious and she did.” He shrugs.

“Oh, I see.” She nods and sits back. “I’m not judging or anything, I mean, I guess when you, you know.” She takes a bite of her food, and then leans back in. “Can I ask you something?” She whispers.

“Always.” He leans in as well. Harry be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy a spot of gossip, and Y/N had become his new favorite person to gossip with. It didn’t take them long to become the two bitches that are always talking shit about everyone else.

“Do people use the bunk room to bone?”

His face flushes, and then he clears his throat.

“Why would you ask me that?”

“Because you know everything about this place! I wish it was a singles only room because I swear I saw Nurse Halleran and Dr. Gilles coming out of there, and only one of the beds looked used.”

Harry makes a disgusted face and rolls his eyes.

“I feel bad for whoever he’s married to.” He shakes his head. “Scumbag.”

“Nurse Halleran’s married too! I could never do that. I mean, I’ve been in relationships before, and maybe I’ve thought someone else is attractive, I can appreciate a pretty face, but I would never cheat on my significant other. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“Same here. That’s, like, the ultimate betrayal. How do you even come back from that? I get that our jobs can make for lonely lives, but make the time count at home when you can.”

“Does he have kids?”

“No, I think that’s why he doesn’t feel bad about it. She has two kids, though, I don’t know, I only talk to her about work things if I can help it. I miss some of my girls from the day shifts, like, Shauna is super nice and has this really warm smile.”

“Feel like she’s the hospital granny.” Y/N smiles. “I like her a lot too, the few interactions I’ve had with her.”

“How long do you think they’ll keep you on the night shift for?”

“I have no idea, think I’m just paying my dues as the new doctor. I’m getting more used to it, it’s not too bad. If it goes through summer I can drag my bum to the beach and sleep there.” She laughs and so does he.

“Might have to join you for that, I love getting a good tan.”

“It’s a date.” She says, more so as a joke, but from the way he looks at her he may have taken it a different way, so she clears her throat and laughs it off. “Anyways, I better get back to it. Nothing worse than being in the middle of eating and the beeper going off.” She stands up. “Have a good one, Harry.”

“You too.” He watches her walk away, and he sighs.

On Halloween, Y/N goes in a few hours early because she was told they let the kids go around the halls to the different nurse’s stations to trick or treat, and she really didn’t want to miss out on it. She puts on her witches earrings, and some spooky pins for her coat, and out she goes. She stops off at the store to buy some extra candy, and puts it in a pumpkin shaped bucket. She smiles when she sees Harry behind the desk already in his Halloween scrubs.

“Excellent effort.” He says, and then taps his finger over his mouth in thought. “Could use a little something extra, though.”

“Yeah? Like what?” She sets the candy down on the desk and he walks around it.

“Follow me.” Y/N follows Harry into the breakroom, and he pulls a bag out of his locker. He has her go into the unisex bathroom wither, and she sits up on the counter for him. “I’m working a double today, I did some face painting earlier for some of the younger kids. Sort of a way to give them a costume for when they walk around.”

“Harry, why don’t you just solely work in pediatrics?”

“Because I did some face painting for the elderly too, now hush. I need to concentrate.”

He takes what looks like a black sharpie out of the bag, but Y/N recognizes it as liquid eye-liner.

“What exactly are you going to do with that? Give me cat eyes?” She chuckles.

“No, you dolt, we’d need hours for that. I’m just gonna draw a little spider web on your cheek, alright?”

“Okay.”

Harry had never been this close to her face before. She got a nice whiff of his cologne, and she liked being able to see the few freckles he had. She notices now he’s painted his nails black and orange, he must really like Halloween. She closes her eyes as he starts drawing on her right cheek. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. A slight gasp leaves her lips when his other hand grips her chin to tilt her head.

“Still just me, don’t worry.” He chuckles. “Don’t get jumpy on me.”

“M’not, sorry.” She sucks her lips into her mouth as his hand moves to the side of her neck. Y/N may or may not be a little touch starved.

“Almost done.” He says just as she was opening her eyes back up.

“Harry, has anyone ever told you how pretty your eyes are?”

“Shut up.” He scoffs, and finishes up. “All done, tell me what you think.”

“I mean it!” She says as he backs away enough for her to hop off the counter and turn around in the mirror. “Oh, excellent job. I especially like that you drew a little spider dangling from the web.”

“It’s my signature detail. Now you look perfect.” They look at each other through the mirror. “We should probably get out of here before someone thinks we’re boning.”

She bursts out laughing at that.

“Good one.” She says and shakes her head.

“It wasn’t that funny.” He mutters as he puts the bag back in his locker.

“N-no, it wasn’t.” She clears her throat. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” He nudges her shoulder and they walk back out to the main area.

The trick or treating was a lot of fun, and the kids seemed to have their spirits lifted. Then shit got real when the drunk people started coming in, the people the police had to bring in for psych evaluations, and the people that had too many edibles. It was crazy busy, Y/N had been running around all night. She was given the okay to go lay down for about thirty minutes since she had come in early. She stops short when she sees Harry laying in one of the bunks. He was laying on his side with his arms crossed over his chest. She quietly slips into one of the other bunks, and takes a deep breath.

“You’re awfully loud.” He says.

“Christ! I was quieter than a mouse!” She says, and turns to face him. He opens his eyes and grins at her. “Ah, you were just fucking with me.”

“Obviously.”

“Busy out there tonight. I mean, I expected it, but still.”

“I know.” He yawns and stretches out. “I’ve been in here too long, I need to go back out before I get groggy.” He swings his legs over the side of the bed and slowly gets up. “Have a nice snooze.”

“Thanks.” She chews her bottom lip for a moment. “Do you have any makeup wipes? I’d hate to wake up with a smudged web.”

“Oh, sure, one second.” He leaves momentarily and comes back in with a wipe for her cheek. Instead of handing it to her, he sits on the edge of her bunk, cups one of her cheeks in his hand, and uses the other to carefully wipe off the drawing. Her eyes flutter closed and she sighs. “There.” Her eyes open back up and she smiles softly at him.

“Thank you.”

There was something brewing between them, they could both feel it. He’s about to lean in to kiss her, but he hears the click of the door open, and stands up immediately. It was another doctor who was I desperate need of a snooze. Harry leaves, and Y/N tries to relax enough to fall asleep.

They don’t see each other again until the morning when they’re both getting ready to leave. He chews on his inner cheek, trying to work up a little bit of courage.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sure you’re probably tired, but…I have these, uh, pancake stencils where you can make pancakes look like pumpkins or ghosts…I thought maybe we could celebrate surviving Halloween together, but I’ll understand if you’re ready to just crash or-“

“I’d love to have breakfast with you.” She smiles as she closes her locker. “I’m gonna go home and shower. Text me your address, yeah?”

“Alright.” He smiles and watches her walk out.

Y/N takes a very quick shower so she can freshen up. She wasn’t sure what might go down between them. She felt like she was getting to be a little too old to just be hooking up with someone, but Harry was really great, so she decides to just go with the flow. She heads to his flat after he sent her his address, making sure to buy some orange juice as something to bring over.

He lets her in and she can’t get over how cozy he looks in his sweatpants, graphic tee, and cardigan. She was in a pair of leggings and a sweater.

“It smells so good in here.” She says.

“Thanks, I made some tea too if you want something warm.”

She nods and he pours her a cup. They giggle over the pancakes, and Harry confirms that Halloween is definitely one of his favorite holidays. The two decide it might be fun to watch a Halloween movie, but naturally after a long sift, they fall asleep together on his sofa. She was nestled into his chest with his arms wrapped around her. She would have slept longer, but she woke up to the sound of him snoring. She shuffles a little, but accidentally knees him in the groin, waking up immediately.

“Shit, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize I was laying on you like this.”

“It’s fine.” He says as he reaches for himself. “I’m good.” He knuckles at one of his eyes, keeping his other arm around her. He looks at the TV screen and sees that something else had come on. “Slept through the movie…”

“Guess we got a little too comfy.” She looks up at him. “Forgot how nice it was to cuddle with someone.” She mumbles tiredly.

“We could…go to my bed if you want, have a proper cuddle.”

“Would you spoon me if we do that?”

“Yeah, if that’s what you want.”

She nods yes, so he manages to pick her up, and carry her to his bedroom. She almost didn’t want to let go him when he sets her down, but all is good once he slides in next to her, pulls the blankets over them, and he wraps himself around her. She sighs as his pelvis aligns with her bum, and his arm wraps around her waist.

“Good?” He asks.

“Mhm.” She wiggles against him to get even more comfortable.

“Don’t do that.”

“Why not.”

“Because I’ll get excited, and that’ll make things awkward.”

“Define excited.”

“You know exactly what I mean, Y/N.” He sighs.

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“I’ll get hard, and it’s already difficult enough to control that around you, so-“

“You can press it against me if you want, I don’t mind.” She looks over her shoulder at him.

“You’re serious?”

“If I wasn’t I certainly wouldn’t have let you carry me to your bed.” She rolls onto her other side to face him. “I like being your friend and all, but I’ve done this with someone who’s just a friend before. I…I feel like we almost kissed earlier…”

“We did. Can we try again now?”

“Please.”

His hand slides to the back of her neck and he pulls her closer to him. His lips still tasted like the syrup they put on their pancakes, and she likes it more than she really should. Her tongue swipes along his bottom lip, and he opens up for her. Their tongues swirl around each other, and she tugs him on top of her as she turns onto her back. One of his legs goes between hers, and she grunts when she feels his thigh right on her. She wraps her arms around his neck as their tongues still mold together.

She slips her other leg around his waist so he could lay full between her. He groans into her mouth as he grinds himself against her. A soft moan leaves her lips when she feels how hard he is. She could feel herself throbbing for him. He sits up a little, just to get his cardigan off, and her hands slide up his stomach under his shirt. He shudders from her touch, and he just takes his shirt off too. Her eyes widen as she can finally look over his tattoos.

“This is beautiful.” She says as her fingers trace over the butterfly on his torso.

“Thanks.” He smiles and gets back down to lay on her chest to chest as he kisses her.

He kisses from her lips, along her jaw, and to her neck, all while she’s grinding herself against him. One of his hands finds her hair and he yanks her head to the side so he can get better access to her neck. He licks over the spot just below her ear, and he sinks his teeth in. He sucks on her soft skin, and her mouth falls open. She normally wasn’t super into biting, but whatever he was doing felt really good. When he pops off her she puts her hand over the new bruise.

“That’s definitely gonna leave a mark.” She says to him.

“Kind of the whole point.” He smirks. “Maybe Dr. Gilles will leave you alone if he thinks you’re already getting it from someone else.”

“Not very professional though, is it?”

“That nice white coat of yours will cover it. Wear your hair down for a few days, no one will notice. Or maybe they will, oh well. I’ve never much cared what other people think.”

“That’s because you’re not the one walking around with a mark on your neck.” She pouts at him.

“I could be if you wanted to give me one.”

She bites her bottom lip to contemplate just about every little thing that’s going on between them. She had her legs around him, she was in his bed, and he was shirtless sucking marks into her neck.

“Are…are you going to fuck me?” She asks.

“Do you want me to?”

“Kinda.” She giggles. “You’re, um, really sexy, Harry.”

“Well, that’s very nice of you to say, but ‘kinda’ isn’t exactly a yes, Y/N.”

“Could we maybe just…touch each other? Below the belt?”

“Yeah, we can do that.”

He rolls them both over so they’re on their sides facing each other again, and he pulls her leg up over his hip. She reaches for him first, skimming her fingers along the band of his sweatpants before dipping her fingers him. His breath hitches as she palms him over his boxers.

“You’re okay with this?” She asks him.

“Very.” He grunts. “Go for it.”

She nods and slips her hand inside his boxers, wrapping her hand around his warm cock. She bites her bottom lip as she runs her thumb over his tip, which was already leaking precome, and she slides it down his length.

His hand grips her ass before sliding it around to her front, and pulling her leggings back so he can get his hand in. A moan leaves his lips when he feels her wetness through her thong. He pets over at first, teasing her a little, but she squeezes him a little too tight, and that was signal enough to get the show on the road. He tugs her thong to the side, and runs his fingers along her slit before dipping his middle finger inside her. She squeezes around the intrusion, and then she relaxes a bit for him.

Harry slides another finger inside her, and works them in and out as his thumb takes care of her clit. He leans in to kiss her as they work each other over. She sucks on his bottom lip as she pumps his slick cock in her hand. He finds himself bucking into her grasp, but neither seem to care since she was grinding against his fingers. He curls them up inside her, and that’s when she starts breathing heavily.

“Oh, shit.” Her mouth falls open and she starts pumping him faster. “Fuck, oh my god, H-Harry, it feels so good, don’t stop.” She was nearly gagging for it, and it shocked him to see her falling apart like this just from him fingering her.

“Y/N.” He moans and presses his forehead to hers. “I’m gonna come.”

“M-me too, shit.”

She feels her hand become warm and sticky as she comes around his fingers. She tightens around him to make it last as long as possible, and then she catches breath. She doesn’t want to make a mess of his sweat pants, so she takes her hand out slowly, keeping as much of his come in her palm as she can. They make eye contact, and she licks her palm clean. He does the same by sucking his fingers into his mouth.

“You’re, like, a little kinky.” She chuckles and so does he.

“You literally just did the same as me!”

“I was trying not to make a mess of your sheets!”

“I can wash ‘em.” He laughs more, and then tucks some hair behind her ear. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking you like me a little more than I thought.”

“A lot more, actually. You like me too?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “I like you, Harry.”

“Thank god, I didn’t want this to be awkward at work.”

“Just don’t try to get busy with me in the bunk room. I will not contribute to that.”

“Listen, when you’re tired and desperate, it’s not such a bad place to get frisky.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” She rolls her eyes. “Could I use your bathroom quick? And then if you don’t mind, I would actually love to sleep a bit more.”

“Of course! And yeah, that sounds good.”

She uses his bathroom, and he cleans himself up. He offers some pajama pants a tee shirt, and she happily accepts. She changes and crawls back into bed with him. He spoons her, and rubs at her side, giving her a kiss once in a while on the back of her neck. As she falls asleep in his arms she thinks she had never been so thankful to work on a holiday in her life.

#harry styles #night shift #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #nurse!harry #doctor!y/n

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Three

Summary: You meet Javier for the third time. Additionally, you both begin to discover how much the Murphys love to meddle.

W/C: 2.3k

Warnings: language, innuendo

A/N: This is where things start to get interesting! I’m so in love with this fic and can’t wait for all of you to hopefully love these two like I do! This chapter was really fun to write (Steve and Javi are so much fun) and from here, it’s the interesting stuff!

p.s. this gif makes me WEAK... do you know how badly I want to make Javi smile 🥺

previous chapter | next chapter

You’ve known Javier Peña for a total of five days now, have met him twice, but he’s still all you can think about. Lorena catches on easily that something has put you in a dreamy and lovely mood as you hum and smile to yourself, folding the linens for beds.

“¿Quiubo, Ana?” She asks, bumping into your side and teasingly asking you what’s up in Colombian slang. Your name is not Ana, no, but the girls around here love to call you it; they derived the nickname from americana. As much as it bugs you, it’s better than gringa, your original name around here.

You shake your head, ponytail swinging lightly behind you. “It’s nothing,” you shrug, but you’re smiling, and Lorena giggles a little.

“Nothing my ass. Tell me, who is it? It’s gotta be someone, right?” She asks, and you smile a little wider, shaking your head again. “No one smiles while doing the goddamn sheets, chica.”

Shrugging, you wrap up a blanket and giggle. “Well, there’s a guy, yes,” you finally admit, biting your lip as you think about him. His face, his handsome face, the way you made him laugh. That seemed rare from a man like him.

Lorena squeals and bounces, her dark and curly ponytail following her movements. “Tell me everything. Come on, I’m your best friend, you know you can,” she whines, grabbing your arm.

You yank your arm away to continue folding the sheets, but you still have a dreamy smile as you think about him. “Well, I met him at the gym. The night that woman died,” you tell her, and both of you droop softly at the memory, though the excitement returns as you think of Javier again. “His name is Javier. Oh my god, he’s so handsome,” you laugh as you picture him. “He’s got this mustache, right? It looks so 70s but it’s so hot on him.”

Wiggling her eyebrows, Lorena laughs and picks up some sheets, helping you fold them. “All the better when his mouth is between-“

“Lori!” You squeal and push her teasingly, laughing at her terrible thoughts. “Jesus Christ,” you groan, but the smile remains plastered on your face.

“Estás tragada, Ana,” she practically sings as she sees the look on your face. It’s another slang term around here- literally, it means you’ve been swallowed; figuratively, that you’re head over heels.

Rolling your eyes, you toss a folded sheet down on the table. “I’ve known him for five days.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t be completely in love with him,” she teases. Lorena is young, only 19, full of dreams and hope. She’s similar to the Disney princesses you grew up on, you think, huge brown eyes gleaming and dark waves bouncing along with her.

You shake your head. “Don’t you have a catheter or something to go do?” You tease her, chuckling as her expression sours. “Go on, ¡ábrase!”

Lorena rolls her eyes and leaves the room. “Tragada!” She shouts before closing the door, leaving you to your folding.

Javier lights a cigarette, watching the smoke trail from the end of it. It’s hypnotic for a moment, exactly what he needs to keep his mind off of the two most pressing matters in his head right now: the paperwork in front of him, and you. He takes a drag from the cigarette and exhales for a moment before sipping the coffee in front of him, expression dropping from completely neutral to a frown when Steve sits down in front of him.

“Mornin’, Javi,” the blonde man grumbles as he plops down in his office chair, taking a long swig from the large coffee mug he holds. Javi raises his eyebrows quickly in greeting before turning back to his paperwork, but Steve is in a chatty mood today. Unsurprising, Javier thinks, as Murphy starts talking again. “Spare one?” He asks, nodding to the cigarette.

Groaning, Javier nods and hands him one and his lighter. “You owe me around $30 in spares now,” he says teasingly, his mind elsewhere.

Steve rolls his eyes as he brings it to his lips and lights it. “Real friends don’t keep running tabs.” “We’re not friends, we’re partners,” Javier says, trying to sound threatening, but they both know it’s a lie. Steve is Javier’s best, if not only, friend.

“Speakin’ of friends, heard from Connie that you’ve got a new one. One that does more than fuck you,” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “You wanna tell me ‘bout her?”

The cigarette returns to Javier’s lips for another long and slow drag before he bothers responding. “No.”

Murphy laughs a little at that, sipping his own mug of coffee. “Good news for you then. You don’t have to. The word around the hospital is that she’s completely smitten with you,” he informs the man across from him, the coffee mug covering the lower half of his face.

That finally grabs Javier’s attention, causing him to lift a brow in curiosity. Steve grins. “So you do like her as more than something warm at night,” he chuckles a little, setting down his mug. “And you haven’t even kissed her yet, wow,” he nods, observing Javier’s reactions and reading them.

Javier rolls his eyes and Steve laughs again. “I’ll have to tell Connie all about how you feel. Maybe that girl’ll get the nerve before you and make the first move.” “Don’t you fucking dare, Murphy,” Javier practically hisses at him, leaning across his desk.

“Wow,” Steve chuckles and leans back in his seat, dragging out the vowel of the word. “You’re really into her.” “I am not some teenage boy you can poke and prod and call chicken, Stephen,” Javier threatens, annoyance clearly growing. “What I do with my love life is none of your fucking business, unlike you and Connie seem to think,” he says with force, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest.

“Jesus, Jav. Just trying to help,” he shakes his head and drinks the last of his coffee, standing. He takes Javier’s mug too, heading for the coffee machine in the break room. “One last thing: Connie told me that the girl gets off at 6 tonight, and she’s going to the gym after.” Steve smirks a little and turns away.

“Fuck you, Murphy!” Javier shouts after the man, who’s walking to the break room with a little more pep in his step.

Murphy flips Javi the bird over his shoulder.

As you walk to the gym, the sweltering heat of Colombia doesn’t annoy you as much as normal. You’re already about to be sweating your ass off, it’s fine. The sun is slowly slipping down the horizon, not quite at sunset yet, casting a golden glow over the crowded streets.

Someone in the street is singing, and it fills the warm air just the way the humidity does. He’s talented, playing a guitar too, and you toss a 50 peso coin in his case as you pass. You hum along, the song familiar to you thanks to the radio, even murmuring the words to yourself. It’s an absolutely beautiful evening, and the only thing that could make it more beautiful would be encountering the beautiful DEA agent who has occupied a corner of your mind for the past week

Turning the corner, you spot the entrance to the gym, and notice that the door is being opened by a man with slightly wavy brown hair and a neat mustache- Javier, you grin to yourself. You jog a little to catch up, calling his name, and his eyes seem to glimmer a little as he hears you.

You’ve never seen the man in the daylight, and it’s truly a sight to behold. The light accentuates the hills and valleys of his skin, the slight hook of his nose, and most importantly his stunning eyes. The light catches them just right, showing the depth in those shimmering brown rings around his irises. His hair is lighter than you thought, when it hasn’t been dampened by sweat, and shines in the sunlight just like the rest of him does. “Fancy seeing you in the daylight,” you tease, an easy smile crossing your face.

Javier is noticing the exact same things about you. His lips tug up in one corner at the way your ponytail bounces and swings with your steps, your beautiful skin in the golden-hour sun, the way your smile lightly crinkles your nose. He opens the door for you and follows you inside. “It is different, I agree. So no graveyard shift tonight?” He asks you.

Nodding, there’s a genuinely excited smile on your face. “Yep. For the next two weeks, I only work days. I can’t wait, oh my god,” you sigh, tightening your ponytail and shoving your bag into a locker. “How about you? This is an odd hour for a man with your job,” you ask.

The man simply shrugs. “Believe it or not, I get off at about 5:30 every night. I usually end up at the office for much longer, considering the workload.”

That surprises you. “Holy fuck, you’re kidding,” you laugh, unable to believe it, but Javier simply shakes his head, confirming it to be true. “Do you at least get paid overtime or something?”

“It’s not manual labor or anything, so no. It’s just expected of you when you’re on this kind of job,” Javier shrugs, walking to the boombox before you can and turning on a station of lively Colombian music.

“I’d die. I’d literally die,” you laugh, adjusting your tank top and making your way to an elliptical.

“You save people for a living. I deal with a lot of blood, and I can barely handle it; meanwhile, it’s your literal job to deal with that stuff,” he shakes his head and gets on a treadmill, a couple of yards away from you and facing the same wall.

“Different people are suited for different work, I suppose,” you shrug as you begin moving, enjoying the relaxation that comes with the moment.

The two of you continue on your respective cardio machines for a while, before you break the silence and pause the machine to take a swig of water. “Where’s your water bottle, huh?” You ask him.

Javier stops his machine as well, amusement in his eyes. “You know, I don’t seem to be able to get as hard of a workout in when you’re around. Too much chatter,” he teases, raising an eyebrow.

You’ve been known to babble, too much sometimes, and that makes a little bubble of anxiety pop inside your stomach. “Shit, I’m sorry Javier,”’ you shake your head and turn back to the machine. “I’ll stop-”

“I never said I don’t enjoy it,” he says, the deadpan cracking and a small smile tugging across his face. It makes the anxiety dissipate as easily as it formed, the way he smiles at you and those beautiful eyes meet yours. “Like you said when we met. It’s nice to talk to an American,” he shrugs simply, crossing his arms for a moment before letting them drop again. “Especially one like you.”

You giggle softly at that, biting down on your lip and looking down. When you look up, Javier has turned the machine back on and is holding a comfortable jog. Fine, so that’s how he wants to play it. You bite down harder on your lip to hold back a stupidly lovestruck grin from crossing your face, instead turning back to your machine and getting moving again.

A while later, a few snarky comments from each of you, the 30-minute period the cardio machines run comes to an end. You both sigh, panting and regaining your breath, as you try your hardest to keep your eyes off the man in the large mirrored wall. He’s handsome when he’s working out too, you’ve known that since the first time you met him, his tan skin flushed and tinged with pink. The sweat coats his forehead and you wonder if it’s uncomfortable to have that mustache when he’s exercising- maybe you should ask, you consider, but immediately change your mind. He already finds you nosy, you’re sure, you don’t need to push it more.

The man turns to you, hands on his waist. “Weightlifting competition?” He asks, a smirk on his face as he breathes heavily.

“Oh, you’re fucking on, Peña,” you laugh, grabbing your water bottle and taking a long swig from it. You set it down on a weightlifting bench a few moments later after you find your way to a squat rack. “Let’s do squats, huh?” You ask, already moving to put your preferred weight on the bar.

Javier tries to hold back his discontent when he sees the weights you’re loading onto it. “I was really hoping for maybe a bench press or something, but I guess I never specified,” he murmurs, sitting on the bench and waiting for you.

When you’re all set, you get under the bar and lift it on your shoulders, walking forward and doing a couple of squats. You make eye contact with Javier and shoot him a wink, earning a little chuckle and a twitch of the top lip, hidden beneath his mustache. You walk it back and set the bar down, then crack your back softly and look at him. “Go for it,” you say, gesturing to the rack.

“I suppose I can’t back out now,” he nods, getting under the bar in a similar way to you and letting out a grunt. “Fuck, you’re strong,” he grits out as he stands up, the bar resting on his traps. He does one squat, with effort, then returns it to the holding spot. “Okay, you win.”

You whoop happily, throwing your hands in the air and laughing. “Jesus, maybe it’s a good thing you’re coming here more often,” you tease, moving to take the weights off the bar.

“Maybe it is,” he chuckles to himself as he removes the weights from the other side of the bar, thinking about it. It is good for him; he gets to see you.

tag list:

@diogodxlot

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javi peña #javi peña x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos #narcos fanfic #blood sweat and tears

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eastofthemoon · 3 years

Text

Never thought I would write Lego Monkie King fic, but here we are.

Title: Did I Forget To Mention

Rating: G

Characters: Monkey King, MK and Pigsy

Summary: Monkey King was certain he knew all about MK. However, after a visit he suddenly realizes how little he does know his successor.

Archive of Our Own

Wukong flew across the sky in his bird form. He hadn’t planned on training the kid until tomorrow, but the weather was just too perfect to waste.

Besides, it was either that or house clean and he wasn’t in the mood for it. It could wait another week or two.

Wukong gave a small twirl in the air as he flapped his wings and soon landed on top of the sign.

He spotted MK walking out with Pigsy close behind. Wukong wanted to swoop down and surprise tackle the kid, but paused. MK wasn’t in his regular set of clothes. They were strangely a lot nicer than normal and he was even straightening a tie?

Wukong tilted his bird head in confusion. He didn’t even know the kid had nice clothes. Where was he going that he had to dress so formally?

Curious, Wukong stayed in his bird form and flew a little closer, but made certain to stay out of sight.

“I shouldn’t be long, Pigsy,” MK said as he put a bag in his delivery cart. “I’ll be back by the lunch rush-”

“Kid, it’s fine,” Pigsy said as he patted the kid’s shoulder. “Sandy says he got you covered, just try to be back by the dinner and we’re good.”

He’s oddly flexible today, Wukong thought. Pigsy always got so cranky when he was dragging MK off to do some training.

MK sighed, but gave a smile. “Okay, thanks, Pigsy.”

Pigsy waved a hand. “Don’t mention it.” He then rubbed his neck and passed MK a small box. “Oh and uh, here I made some egg tarts for your folks.”

Wukong frowned. Folks? Did he mean MK’s parents?

MK’s eyes widened happily. “Really? Wow, thanks, Pigsy! That saves me having to stop by the bakery.” The kid carefully tucked the box into the bag and climbed into the car. “Alright, I’ll see you later.”

“Stay safe,” Pigsy said with a wave before venturing inside his restaurant.

Wukong quietly watched MK drive away.

MK had never mentioned his parents to Wukong before. He talked about Mei, Sandy, Pigsy and Tang, and sometimes even mentioned an aunt of his, but never his parents. Wukong knew he lived by himself, but he never thought too hard about it. Granted it was odd the kid was making such a big fuss over seeing his parents.

Were they super strict or something? Was that why he didn’t leave with them?

Wukong probably should have gone back to the Flower Fruit Mountain, but he found himself flying after MK’s cart. The lack of information was going to nag him until he knew.

It didn’t take long for Wukong to get his answer when MK climbed out of the delivery car and ventured into a graveyard.

Wukong felt his heart stop as he watched MK carefully carry the bag and walked until he reached a pair of tombstones.

MK gave a small smile. “Hi Mom, hi Dad.”

Wukong landed on a nearby tree, but kept his distance.

MK silently cleaned the tombs. He then placed the flowers along with the egg tarts and burned some incense before kneeling.

“I bet you guys are worried about me,” he rubbed his neck. “It’s been a year, but don’t worry. I have a great mentor in the Monkey King and all of my friends got my back. I’ll be okay.”

He then folded his hands to pray and then rose up once he was finished. MK gave one more smile at the tombstones before picking up his now empty bag and left.

Wukong waited until MK got to his delivery car and drove away. He shifted back into his true form as he landed in front of the tombstone.

Quietly, he gave a bow and lingered for a moment before turning back to his bird form and flew away.

No training today. There was a lot he had to think about.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wukong returned to Flower Fruit Mountain until it was close to evening. He took flight as a bird again and headed to Pigsy’s restaurant. He waited until the shop closed and Wukong watched MK and Tang head home.

He snuck through an opened window, reverted to his true form when he landed and entered the kitchen. Pigsy was in the middle of washing dishes.

Wukong cleared his throat. “Hey Pigsy, I-”

He briefly regretted it as Pigsy yelped, spun around with a wet frying pan in hand ready to attack. Wukong prepared to dodge, but Pigsy froze upon seeing him and blinked.

“MONKEY KING?!”! He cried and cursed before shaking the wet frying pan in his face. “Geez, didn’t anyone ever tell you to not sneak up on people?!”

“Sorry,” Wukong said as he held up his hands. “Didn’t realize this was how you greeted paterons?!”

“It is when people sneak in here after I locked up the place when it’s supposed to be empty,” Pigsy snapped.

Wukong raised an eyebrow and gestured to the window. “Not completely locked up. You missed a window.”

Pigsy frowned, glanced to where he pointed and grumbled. “The one time I forget-” He shook his head. “Wait, nevermind that! What do you want? I doubt it’s about testing my security.”

Wukong’s eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms. “I needed to discuss something about MK and you seemed like the best person to ask.”

Pigsy’s eyes widened. “The kid? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Wukong said quickly and rubbed his neck. “But...I didn’t realize his parents were dead.”

The small panic left Pigsy’s face before the cook turned back to scrubbing his pan. “He told you?”

“Not exactly,” Wukong said. “I spotted him this morning and followed him.”

Pigsy raised an eyebrow at him. “So you saw him visiting his parents' graves?”

“Yeah,” Wukong said slowly. “When..did they die? Was it recent?”

“No, years ago,” Pigsy said as he rinsed the frying pan. “He was little at the time. MK admitted to me he doesn’t remember them much.”

“I see,” Wukong replied. “So, who raised him?”

“His aunt took him in,” Pigsy continued as he set the frying pan aside and tackled a bowl. “Known her for years, nice lady. Bit of an airhead sometimes, but she does love MK.”

“But he’s not living with her now, right?” Wukong asked. “I was under the impression he lived by himself.”

Wukong knew the laws enough to know that legally MK was just old enough to be living on his own. It wasn’t common, but it did happen. He never gave much thought as to why in MK’s case.

“He does,” Pigsy replied. “Not long ago MK’s aunt got offered her dream job that requires a lot of traveling. She was reluctant to take it because of how it might affect MK.”

Wukong raised an eyebrow. “So, she didn’t?”

“No, she did,” Pigsy said as he looked up. “She never told MK about the job offer, but he accidently found out about it. So he decided suddenly that he was old enough to move out and take care of himself.”

He huffed. “Although what he defines as ‘caring for himself’ is up for debate, but I digress. MK moved out and his aunt took the job while making sure to send MK rent money to help out. She sends him a postcard about twice a month.”

Wukong frowned. He did recall MK flashing a postcard in his face a few times, but Wukong would often try to redirect the kid towards their lesson for the day.

Pigsy glanced over his shoulder as he pointed a finger at Wukong. “Now, my question is, why are you asking me all of this and not MK?”

“How could I?” Wukong said as he said on the floor and leaned against the wall. “The kid never told me any of this. He must have had his reasons for not wanting me to know.”

It bothered him. Wukong wasn’t fully sure he understood why, but it did. He was MK’s mentor. This was stuff he felt like he should now, right?

“I thought we had a good relationship,” Wukong continued. “This is a big detail to not tell someone. How could-”

Suddenly, something hard struck the top of his head.

Wukong yelped as he looked up and saw the culprit was the frying pan in Pigsy’s hands.

“OW!” Wukong rubbed his head as he growled. “That hurt-”

“Oh, please,” Pigsy snapped. “I know it takes way more than a frying pan to actually hurt you.”

Wukong glared. That might be true, but it still stung. “But what was that for-”

“Because for someone who is immortal you’re not too bright!” Pigsy set down the frying pan. “MK never told you because he didn’t want you to know! The kid just never thought of it!”

Wukong blinked. “What?”

Pigsy sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, it’s hard to explain, but when someone you know dies after a while you just naturally forget who knows and who doesn’t.” He tossed his hands up in the air. “It probably just didn’t occur to him to bring it up.”

Wukong raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t help, but wonder if Pigsy was speaking from personal experience.

The Monkey King gave a sigh as he rubbed his neck. “Okay, fine, but we’ve known each other for close to a year now? How could he not think of bringing it up?”

“How would he?” Pigsy retorted. “What do you expect him to do?” He gave a fake grin and waved. “Hiya Monkey King! How’s your day going? Oh, by the way my parents are dead!”

Wukong cringed and pointed back. “Okay, first of all, NEVER smile like that again it’s creepy and second,” he frowned, “I get what you’re saying but still…”

Pigsy’s eyes narrowed. “Let me put it this way, when the two of you have ‘talked’ has it been about MK himself or has it been all about you and his training?”

Wukon raised, but then dropped his arm in thought. MK did mention his friends, but it was usually just some side note before Wukong changed the subject or he recalled a detail from his own adventures.

Wukong didn’t reply, but the silence seemed to be more than enough of an answer for Pigsy.

“That’s what I thought,” Pigsy said as he returned to the dishes in the sink. “I’m just an outsider here, but it seems to me that MK knows a lot more about you than you do about him.”

Wukong’s tail twitched in thought. After a long moment he gave himself a deep sigh. “You’re right.” He shook his head. That was the downside of being immortal. It was a lot easier to forget the world doesn’t revolve around you.

“I need to fix this,” Wukong said aloud. He wasn’t sure if he was saying it to Pigsy or to himself.

Pigsy snorted. “First smart thing you said since you got here.”

Wukong gave a small smile. “Thanks, Pigsy.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Pigsy said as he glared. “Just try to avoid giving me any more future heart attacks.”

“No promises,” as Wukong turned to leave. “Unless you are willing to offer me free noodles?”

Pigsy picked up the frying pan. “Do you want another whack?”

Wukong held up his hands. “Nah, I’m good. See you around.”

He heard Pigsy give another disgruntled snort as he turned into a bird and flew off. As Wukong headed home, plans began to form in his head. He would find a way to fix this.

----------------------------------------------------------

The next day, MK arrived at Flower Fruit Mountain. He was a bit earlier than Wukong expected, but it wouldn’t disrupt his plans.

“Heya, Bud,” Wukong greeted from his seat on his cloud. “Bit early today?”

MK huffed as he ran up. “Pigsy said I could have the morning off, so I thought it would be good if I came earlier.”

“Did he?” Wukong replied and gave a smirk. I wonder if he did that for me, but I won’t question it if he did.

MK swung his staff. “So, what are we focussing on today? Defence? Strike attacks? How to hang upside down without throwing up?”

“None,” Wukong said as he landed and brought out the book he’d been hiding. “Thought we try some of this?”

MK’s eyes lit up. “What is it? An ancient book of spells?! Secret techniques?!”

Wukong laughed as he tossed it to him. “Take a look.”

MK caught it, and suddenly the excitement on his face turned to confusion. “A...cookbook?”

Wukong crossed his arms as his tail twitched. “Yeah, I thought it was time to try something different. Never hurts to take it easy every once in a while, right?”

MK gave a thoughtful frown as he flipped through the pages.

Wukong rubbed his neck. “Something wrong, Bud?””

Did MK not like the idea?

“Oh, it’s nothing,” MK said hastily and laughed as he gave a nervous smile. “I just didn’t think that you cooked anything.”

Wukong raised an eyebrow. “What? Did you think I ate nothing but peaches and peach chips?”

“Um...kind of?” MK muttered with a sheepish grin.

Wukong raised a hand, but then lowered it. It was his favorite snack so he couldn’t blame the kid. He shook his head.

“Anyway,” Wukong said as he wrapped an arm around MK’s shoulder. “Why don’t we try one of these recipes?”

“I’m not a great cook,” MK said, but then gave a small laugh. “Although, I’m a lot better than my Aunt Ling.”

“Oh, yeah?” Wukong asked as they headed to his house.

MK laughed. “Yeah, she once tried to make dumplings and we nearly set the kitchen on the fire.” The boy laughed at the memory. “Granted, if she wasn’t such a bad cook I wouldn’t have met Mei.”

“Oh, really?” Wukong said as they entered the house. “Why don’t you tell me all about it while we cook.”

MK’s face brightened as he told the story and Wukong didn’t interrupt him. In the end, the food they made wasn’t great, but it was worth it for the stories MK shared. It was a small step, but it was one in the right direction.

#lego monkie kid #my writing #lmk

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ppersonna · 4 years

Text

planning forever - myg

↳ summary- you have special news to deliver to your husband, yoongi. and you find your inspiration to do so in a unique way.

↳ rating- PG

↳ pairing- min yoongi x reader

↳ word count-

↳ genre- fluff, oh my god the fluff

↳ warnings- mentions of sex, some swearing, min yoongi is D A D D Y

↳ a/n- happy birthday to @carly-bean-blog ! my sweet angel who has been with me through nearly my entire blog life. you’re so special to me! myself, @chimoona and @sombreboy wanted to do something special for you. together, we created your future ;). we hope you enjoy your day, sweet peony!

"You forgot your lunch.”

The voice of your husband, Yoongi, chuckles lightly through the phone in an amused tone.

“Shit,” you sigh, walking into work with arms packed full. Keys, your jacket, nametag, and an energy drink fumble in your grasp.

“Good thing you’re married to the nicest man in the world,” he goads. You roll your eyes, but he’s right. Min Yoongi is simply the sweetest, most kind man you’ve ever met. It’s why you married him.

“Hmm,” you tease as you shove your items into your locker, “Did I marry Namjoon?”

Yoongi grunts through the phone and it forces you to laugh.

“Not funny,” he sighs. You know he’s holding back laughter, maintaining his stoicism.

“I love you, Yoongi,” you smile. “My break is in about four hours.”

“I’ll bring it then. We can eat together.”

Your heart warms at the idea of sharing your simple sandwich and chip combo with the quiet man—the one who so easily captured your heart. You love that he’s willing to spend time during his day to sit at your boring job and eat lunch with you, all to make you happy.

“I’ll see you then.” The smile that's on your face nearly makes up for the fact that you have to suffer through a grueling eight-hour shift. Yoongi makes all the bad things in your life good. He takes those bad days and holds them tight in his arms until the bad melts away and you’re simply left with nothing but bliss.

“I love you.” He says it so easily, so much easier than when you first met him. Yoongi’s icy demeanor quickly melted after he spent time with you. Your infectious laughter, kind heart, and easy-going attitude had the man falling fast.

“I love you too, Yoongi.”

As you press ‘end’ on the phone, one hand drops to your stomach. You rub it idly. Consciously, you know it’s early and that you’re showing no signs of growing a life inside of you, but you can’t help but smile at the tiny fluttering in your belly.

---

Work goes by slower than you’d like. You’re excited at the idea of seeing Yoongi, but four hours suddenly seems too far away.

It’s as you’re arranging the new shipment of artisan, 100% organic cotton diapers that you’re forced to pause.

On the box of the far-too-expensive diapers, is the cutest baby model you’ve ever seen in your life.

You stare dumbly at the box for what feels like hours, unblinking as you take in the baby’s chubby cheeks and silly grin.

Maybe it’s the new pregnancy hormones coursing through your veins, or maybe this baby is sincerely so cute it’s making you cry—either way, tears slip down your face and a dumb, deliriously happy grin spreads across your face.

You’re pregnant. You’re going to have a baby with Yoongi. Maybe your baby won’t look like the tiny one on the display box, but it doesn’t matter. You’re going to have a child with the man of your dreams and you suddenly want the next eight months to go by faster.

The only problem that remains is, well, you haven’t told your husband.

It’s not like you two meant to get pregnant. You weren’t opposed to the idea but having sex was never with an end-goal of conception in mind. Yoongi wanted kids and assured you of that before you agreed to marry him. You both knew they would come at a time that felt right, when the universe and stars aligned.

And it appeared that they had. You noticed the symptoms a few weeks ago. Missed period, a little nauseated in the mornings, increased hormones. So, during a lunch break at work, you bought a pregnancy test and scurried to the staff bathrooms, only to come out with a positive reading and a grin on your face.

It wasn’t that you were scared to tell your husband. Frankly, you were far from it. You wanted to make sure the moment was just right. The pressure of telling your husband he was about to become a father was overwhelming. You couldn’t just tell him casually, as if discussing the weather. No, you wanted something more. And you agonized for weeks about how to make it happen.

But now, standing in front of the diaper section with tears pouring from your eyes, you throw any need of extravagant celebrations aside. Seize the day—it’ll happen at lunch and there’s no use backing out now.

The next fews hours creep by painfully. You take note of every ticking minute as it passes, practically hopping on your heels with excitement, waiting until you can pop the news. You finish stocking the nursery aisles with a happy heart and a smile on your face. You’re so engrossed in stocking shelves and running through the dialogue in your mind that you slowly lose track of time.

Hours pass and—

“_____,” Yoongi’s low voice bounces off the tall aisles behind you.

You turn on your heel and come face-to-face with the most familiar, welcoming pair of deep brown eyes.

“Baby,” you laugh, amused at how domestic he looks with both hands full of sack lunches like a father at a soccer game half-time.

He pulls off the look well. It reminds you why you fell in love with him in the first place. So kind and doting on those he loves most. Gosh, he’s going to make a great father.

“I knew I’d find you here,” he says with an eye-crinkling grin. “You love this department.”

“Love? I’m assigned to this department.” You close the distance with a small peck and tug your lunch from his hand. “But I guess you can say I have a fondness for it.”

He takes a step back and reclines in a nursing glider, motioning for you to join him in a neighboring seat.

“It’s the graveyard shift—do you think anyone will mind if we eat here?”

You look around the completely vacant store like a covert agent, then answer in a hushed tone. “For the time being, it looks like we’re off their radar. The coast is clear.”

“You’re an idiot,” he laughs, “I love you.”

“Love you too, rule breaker.”

It felt good to be bad in the most wholesome way in the most wholesome department of the entire store. Well, aside from the home decor section. Those fragrant eucalyptus candles and plush throw pillows in the shape of wild animals melts your heart to no end.

The two of you empty your bags into your laps and make small talk about your days. While you were toiling over the display case for Jessica Alba’s latest line of gluten-free, non GMO shampoo for thin baby hair, Yoongi watered the plants and did the dishes.

Real riveting stuff.

No, really, there is nothing sexier than a man who takes care of the home. It only makes you want to pop the news sooner, but the sandwich clutched in your hands makes for a less glamorous prop in your otherwise fairytale picture-perfect moment.

“Oh! I also did the laundry and folded it the way you like.”

“Bunched up and tossed in the drawer?”

He winks and points his finger at you. “That’s my girl—nothing gets past her.”

“Nothing does, nothing does…” You stare off blankly at the display behind Yoongi and notice a package of diapers is slightly askew. You begin to make a mental note to fix it later, but are abruptly snapped from your thoughts at Yoongi’s words—

“Nothing gets past me either, ______.” He sighs and reclines, belly full of sandwich. He closes his eyes and rests his head against clasped hands. “I know you’ve been keeping a secret from me, I can sense it like a bloodhound.”

With that, you pop the rest of the sandwich into your mouth and chew quickly. It seems the moment to savor has quickly evaporated and it was time to come clean.

“I wanted to tell you sooner, but—”

“—You got me that Pioneer DJ System for my birthday. I knew it! When I saw a purchase on our credit card for $500, I knew I caught you red-handed,” He looks at you for confirmation and assumes he’s right based on the reddish hue of your cheeks.

“You’re the idiot,” you snicker, nervously biting your lip between your teeth. “That wasn’t a DJ System, that was a crib.”

He holds up his finger in an AH-HA moment of victory, but pauses mid-celebration and looks at you with a crooked smile. “C-crib?”

“I’m pregnant, Yoongi.”

You can’t keep the butterflies from fluttering, seeing his face slowly shift from slightly amused to tear-dabbed and nearly shaking.

“You’re...you mean...we’re…” He stands from his seat and takes a knee beside you on your rocker and places his hand gently on your stomach.

“Yes,” you confirm through a strained voice, edging back tears of your own. “We’re having a baby.”

“This is, I mean,” He stammers and verbally struggles to come up with the right words to say that properly shows the multitude of emotions coursing through his body.

“Are you happy?” You ask despite the answer being written plainly on his face.

Of course he’s happy. It’s the happiest moment of his life and it’s all happening under the watchful gaze of a Peppa Pig cardboard cutout.

“Beyond,” he confirms, stroking your belly gently as if you were made of glass. “And excited, and scared.”

“Me too.”

“But mostly happy.” He strokes his hand through your hair and curls the loose strands behind your ear to place a soft kiss on your cheek. “God, I can’t wait to spend forever with you two.”

“Already? You haven’t even met the kid. What if he/she is a brat?”

“Too late, I love them already.”

You lean forward and kiss your husband, capturing his plush lips with your own. It’s warm and soft and reminds you of home.

“I love you,” you whisper, lips still touching his.

“I love you too,” he smiles, “Forever.”

#bts fluff #min yoongi #yoongi fluff #suga #suga fluff #bts fic #bts imagine #min yoongi fluff #bts sfw #agust d #agust d fluff #bts imagines #min yoongi imagines

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 years

Note

I recently found The Pool and I’ve read it four times in three days. I love it so much 💗 may I please request #33 from the hug prompts (‘picking them up’ hugs) with Benny? Congratulations on 2K! 🥳

Part of Youvebeenlivingfictional’s 2K Follower Celebration Eee, thank you!! 🥰🥰🥰 I love The Pool, I miss Benny and Techie 😣 Pairing: Benny Borracho Magalon x Reader Rating: T Warnings: FLUFF.

You didn’t make it a habit to get to know your regulars, but Detective Magalon was the exception.

He came into the diner on your graveyard shifts; he was fairly quiet, but he had opened up to you slowly. He’d last come in three months ago; when you’d dropped off his check, he’d warned you that you wouldn’t be seeing him for a little while. You’d frowned, confused. You’d become so accustomed to seeing Borracho at least once a week— what did a while mean? “Is something wrong?” He’d just shrugged, muttered, “Work,” and given you something that could almost pass for a smile. As the weeks had worn on, you’d found your worry in the man’s absence growing. You hadn’t realized just how much the detective had wormed his way into your heart: he was sweet, and had a dry humor; the two of you flirted, but he’d never been so forward as to ask you out; it helped that he was quite nice to look at. You sighed now, peering around the near-empty diner. It was almost three in the morning; there was one trucker in the corner, halfway through his meal, and a man that had been working through a cup of coffee for the last two hours (you’d offered to top if up twice, but he’d declined). You glanced up as you heard the door open, and you did a double-take at the sight of who it was. You didn’t know what possessed you— but you rounded the counter and ran to the Detective, throwing your arms around his shoulders. You’d never hugged Detective Magalon before, but he didn’t hesitate before he caught hold of you, arms wrapping warmly around your middle. He chuckled softly, leaning back. You sucked in a soft, surprised breath as you felt your feet lift off the ground. You wriggled against him a little, and he gently lowered you back to the floor. You kept your grasp on him, though, and he held you close. “...Hi,” You mumbled against his shoulder. “Hey there,” He chuckled, “You missed me?” You pulled yourself away from him, embarrassment washing over you. “Of course not. You just tip well,” You turned away from him. He chuckled behind you, following you closely and hooking his arm around your waist to slow you down. You went still as he pressed himself up against your back. “Hey,” He said, resting his chin on your shoulder. “What?” “I missed you, too.” You glanced back at him, lowering your eyes again as a bashful smile pulled at your lips. “Are you hungry?” You asked, carefully drawing yourself out of his arms. “Mhm,” Borracho hummed, following you to the counter seating, “When’s your break?” “Uh— Soon, ‘bout ten minutes. Why?” “I’ll wait.” “Oh, you don’t have to—” “Wanna,” Borracho insisted, folding his arms on the counter and smiling at you, “I wanna know what I missed.” “It’s nothing that interesting.” “Doubt it.” “Tell me what you’ve been up to?” You pleaded as you set a mug of hot coffee down in front of him. “I was on an undercover case.” “That’s why you’ve been away?” He nodded as he picked up his coffee. “You’re alright, right?” “I am now.” You rolled your eyes for show, unable to help your smile again as you rested your chin on your hand. Borracho grinned, taking a sip of his coffee. “Tell me more,” You urged, reaching out and poking his arm. He took gentle hold of your hand before you could pull it away, and your stomach flipped. “...I did miss you,” You admitted after a few moments. “Yeah?” “Mhm.” “...Good.”

#Youvebeenlivingficitional Follower Celebration #Follower Celebration #2k Follower Celebration #Prompts #asks #replies #Benny Borracho Magalon x Reader #Benny Borracho Magalon x You #Benny Borracho Magalon/reader #Benny Borracho Magalon/You #Borracho Magalon x Reader #Borracho Magalon x You

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dcforts · 3 years

Text

[day 11: sharing is caring]

That’s just what they need.

It’s not enough that they’ve been digging up graves in the snow and that they’re dirty and tired and aching – the weather had to play its part and send them a storm.

From where they’re stuck in the middle of nowhere in Wisconsin, home seems far, far away.

“Do we know anyone around here?” asks Cas from the passenger seat and Dean closes his eyes and sighs.

“Yeah,” he says disheartened, “We know Garth.”

It’s not that Dean doesn’t like Garth. In fact, he likes him very much. And he’d be happy to see him. It’s been a while and his warm smile it’s never a bad sight.

It’s just that – he’s a lot. And he brings up some stuff.

He may pretend like it never happened but Dean remembers how he first reacted when he’d found out that he’d been bitten and how he acted around his family. And then there’s the fact that Dean doesn’t like bothering hunters who got out of the life. He feels that who he is and what he carries with him, it’s something that they’ve put behind them and don’t wish to see again.

Not to count the bitter feeling that surges in him everytime he’s reminded that Garth not only managed to retire and have a normal life, but he double did it. There are not many hunters, or werewolves, or hunter-werewolves for the matter, that can say that. Dean certainly can’t say that.

Still, when they call him and Garth says he’ll be happy to have them, Dean feels relief flooding over him, if not for the prospect of a warm and dry place to rest for a few hours, just enough to wait for the storm to calm down.

He can manage.

Or at least that’s what he thinks until he and Cas are huddled together on Garth’s front porch and even above the wind Dean hears Christmas songs blasting from the inside.

His eyes find Cas, who’s looking back at him, alarmed, but the doorbell has already been rung and it’s too late to back out. Garth opens the door with his patented smile.

“Guys!” he shouts above the music, “You made it!” he hurries them in the tiny entrance and closes the door.

Dean finds himself enveloped in a cocoon of warmth and lovely aroma of pine wood and cinnamon. His cheeks and hands tingle and he lets out a sigh.

Garth comes back into his view; Dean opens his mouth to speak but he has already wrapped his arms around him. “It’s so good to see you,” he says in his usual cheerful tone. He moves on to squeeze Cas into a similar hug and Cas stiffens and tentatively pats his back. Garth gives out a little laugh, “That’s it, buddy,” he encourages.

“Hello, Garth.”

Alright, Dean thinks, maybe it’s gonna be a little funny.

But then he notices the two-feet-tall inflatable Santa that’s bumping against his shins and when he looks up he’s stunned into silence. It actually takes his eyes a moment or two to register what’s surrounding them: the garlands on the doors, the tinsels around the banister, the baubles hanging from the ceiling all above them. Judging from the giant Christmas tree he can spot in the living room, he’s pretty sure the rest of the house isn’t in much better condition.

Garth himself is wearing an bulky red knitted cardigan with reindeers all over it. Seeing that, combined with the songs and the decorations, Dean feels the need to ask, “Uh – Garth? Are you guys celebrating something?”

Garth slaps him on the shoulder and laughs like he’s made a great joke. “It’s December, Dean-o! Every day is a celebration. The most magical time of the year, right?” he says beaming “You’ll have to wait for the carols but you’re right on time for hot cocoa!”

Dean feels dread creeping in. He takes a step back, “Wha- Garth, no – we don’t mean to -”

Apparently Cas is on the same page as him because he also starts saying, “This is your family time,” and steps back with him. “We don’t want to intrudr –“

Garth shakes his head vigorously, “Guys, guys, guys,” He holds up his hands to shut them up, “It makes Bess and I very happy to have you here to share it with us. Sharing is caring. And we happen to care a lot about you two,” he says making a silly voice and pointing a finger at them.

Yeah, nevermind, this was a terrible idea.

Cas throws him another freaked out look Dean can’t help but reciprocate, but Garth pays no mind to their lack of enthusiasm and shepherds them cheerfully into the living room. Dean feels even more out of place among the pastel walls and the embroidered pillows, the toys and the dolls. He tries to make himself weight less so that he doesn’t leave traces of dirt on the carpet. Everything seems soft and cozy, which is a real change from the hard leather seats and the icy wind.

“So, how was the journey?” Garth is asking Cas, as if they’re coming back from a cruise. “It’s been so long, man. Just the other day I was thinking ‘When I’m ever going to see them again?’ and then - ”

Dean gets distracted as he feels something tugging at the duffel bag he’s carrying and when he lowers his gaze there’s a blond head and two little hands trying to hold on to the fabric. “H-hey,” he says, shifting back a little to get out of his reach. He doesn’t think it’s a good idea to have clean, innocent baby hands near a bag that was in a graveyard an hour ago. But the kid takes an unsteady step forward and grabs it anyway. “This is – no, no – uh, G-Garth?” he calls, horrified.

Garth stops drowning Cas in questions and shifts his attention to the ground. He laughs and picks up his kid, totally unbothered, “Sammy, these are not toys for you,” he shakes his head, “He’s such a curious kid.”

Bess comes down the stairs right in that moment, wearing a green cardigan that matches Garth’s. “I thought I heard you two!” she says, even if Dean is pretty sure they’ve barely said a word since they’ve come in. “Garth, why don’t you bring their bag in the guests’ room? I’ll be right out with the drinks.”

There’s another round or “No need -,” and “This is really not necessary -,” and “We don’t want -“ before Garth yanks the bag from Dean’s hold with one hand.

He always forgets how strong he is.

“Of course you’re gonna stay. There’s no way I’m letting you leave in the cold and the dark. Come on! You know me,” he disappears down the hallway shaking his head and saying, “We’re gonna have so much fun.”

Bess gives them an encouraging smile, “Relax guys, take off your jackets, sit on the couch.”

So they do. Sit on the couch.

They both let out a sigh when they sink into the cushions and Dean would call Cas “old” if he hadn’t made the exact same sound.

“This was a bad idea,” whispers Dean.

“You think?”

In the sudden emptiness of the room, with It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year in the background, and the giant Christmas tree twinkling in the corner, it’s weird to just - sit there.

Dean is dirty and smelly and feels marginally better only when he looks over at Cas who seems so much out of his comfort zone that he might as well be a tropical bird.

He takes a hopeful look out of the windows behind the couch but the weather seems to be even worse than it was five minutes ago.

“Are you still cold?” asks Cas.

“No.”

“Good.”

They look away from each other again.

In the last few weeks they’ve settled in a pretty hectic routine. Find the case, drive to the case, work the case, drive home, rinse and repeat.

It’s a well-oiled machine, but that doesn’t leave much time for – well, anything else. Definitely not sitting around and relaxing – and it’s just awkward all of the sudden to be alone in a place that is not a sticky diner, or a dusty motel, or a morgue.

It sounds depressing but that’s the hunter life for you. Without even noticing you become your job and it gets easier to just put your head down and work.

After three hunts in a row, Dean realizes this is the first time they’re actually taking a break. He looks over at Cas, his messy hair and the hands folded in his lap, and he feels the need to say something conversational.

What comes out is, “Last time I was here, Garth fixed my teeth.”

Cas’ face scrunches up in confusion but then Garth comes back.

“Have you seen Cas?”

Dean blinks at him and then slowly and dubiously points at his right.

“No, I mean,” Garth laughs, “The little one. I’m so excited for you to meet him,” he says, leaving the room again.

“How do you lose a kid?” Dean asks under his breath, looking around. His attention is drawn to a group of pictures on the little table beside the couch. There’s a bunch of the family on holidays, and then a bunch of the kids. One of the frames says Castiel and, on the bottom, Always our little boy.

“Hey, Cas,” he picks it up to show it to him, “Want me to get you one of these?”

Cas glares at him and doesn’t dignifies him with an answer.

Dean smirks and shrugs, “Fine, we’ll get the one that says Sammy. Can’t wait to see his face on Christmas morning.”

Cas doesn’t look at him again but Dean sees the corner of his mouth stretch a little so he calls it a victory.

Then Garth comes back and finally sits down in the armchair across from them. “He’s asleep. I forgot he was asleep!” he rolls his eyes at himself, “Cas,” he says, clicking his tongue, “he’s the best. He’s got this look, you know?”

“Wait, who are we talking about now?”

“Him. No, uh -” Garth laughs and bangs a hand on his forehead. “Sorry, I keep getting confused. Alright, alright, lets call our Cas 'Little Cas' and we’ll call you, 'Big Cas'.”

Dean stifles a laugh.

"I don’t think-" starts Cas, but it gets drown out by Bess coming back with a tray.

From the steaming mugs comes the rich smell of chocolate and on the surface Dean can see mini marshmallows shaped like little trees. He watches as Bess and Garth pick up their mugs and toast before taking a sip and notices with a smile that even their mugs are matching. Bess’ says “Mine” and Garth’s says “Yours”. He thinks it’s cute, whatever.

But then he looks down at his own mug and realizes that there’s something written across it too. It says “Perfect” and when he dares to look in Cas’ way his whole body blushes when he reads “Together” on his.

He takes a sip of chocolate and tries very hard to avoid Cas’ eyes and stop blushing. He fails on both fronts and burns his tongue.

At least it tastes great and the sugar warms him up and makes him feel much more comfortable.

Cas drinks it too without making a fuss over molecules and Dean wonders if it’s because he’s very polite or if he’s a pain in the ass just when they’re alone.

Finally Cas meets Little Cas and Garth keeps telling them how smart he is, because apparently he’s learned how to use the remote.

Dean snorts, “That’s already more than Big Cas can do,” and Cas shoots him a deadly “Stop calling me that,” that shuts him up for five minutes. Dean agrees it was a bad idea anyway.

Kids love Cas, for some reason. Little Cas stretches his arms towards him the whole time he’s in the room and Cas just pretends he can’t see him, as if avoiding eye contact is enough to make him stop. It amuses Dean greatly.

Even Gertie, when she comes in with a gingerbread cookie, looks between them and chooses to give it to Cas.

“I only have one,” she tells Dean, who is totally not offended.

But then Cas says, “It’s okay,” with his soft voice, “We’ll share it.”

And for some reason that makes Dean’s heart flutter. It’s something in the way he casually snaps the cookie in half and hands him a piece.

Somehow it’s different than sharing a car, a motel room, a bed, all kinds of weapons and bags and just space, in general.

Dean doesn’t know what it is, but somehow there’s a difference.

Garth is fairly disappointed when he finds out that angels don’t know Christmas carol by heart just because they’re angels.

At some point he just starts playing the piano and expects Cas to start singing along.

Dean says it was a hard blow for him as well, knowing that he couldn’t play the harp, just to enjoy the way Cas rolls his eyes with his whole head.

“What about Holy Night?”

“I- I don’t know that one,” says Cas, for the thirteen time in a row and Dean would love to stay on the couch and watch him awkwardly handle the situation if he wasn’t afraid Garth would eventually try and bring him into it.

So he jumps up at the first occasion to follow Bess into the kitchen right under Cas’ betrayed look.

“What songs do you know?” Garth’s voice carries through the walls.

“Uh, I know Led Zeppelin?” says Cas and Dean almost drops the mugs as his heart expands.

Now he kind of regrets having left the room but then Garth is saying, “Oh no, silly, I mean Christmas songs,” and Bess is asking him, “Do you play any instrument?” so he focuses back on her.

Dean puts down the mugs in the sink and opens up the tab, “Uh - just the guitar – a little bit. Never had much chance to practise.”

“Oh, you should. Then you can bring it up here sometime and play for us at the church.”

Dean scoffs, “You sure they’d want to see me again, after last time?” he asks and can’t hide the genuine uncertainty from his voice.

Bess rests a hand on his arm, reassuring, “Well, it’ll be different. Last time we said, ‘This is Dean, he’s a hunter’. This time, we’ll be saying, ‘This is Dean, he plays the guitar’.”

It’s such a simple concept but it hits him like a brick. He needs a moment to try and see himself from another point of view and he really doesn’t know what to say. Bess doesn’t seem to mind. They dry the mugs in silence and when Dean looks up to smile at her, she smiles back.

Dean, he plays the guitar. It could work.

They go back to the living room and Bess and Garth duet over Silent Night and it’s only a little embarrassing.

It gets dark pretty soon after that.

Before they bring their kids upstairs they all take part in the traditional – apparently daily – lightning of the tree. They turn off the lights and when Garth says “Ready?”, Gertie says “Yes!” and he lights it up.

Only, in the dark Cas gets really close to him and when Garth says “Ready?” Dean can hear him too say “Yes,” and so he turns towards him just as Garth plugs it in and his breath catches in his throat as he sees his face light up with the colours dancing on his skin.

Bess turns on the lights again and Garth puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder and it startles him.

“Amazing, right?” he says, “Gets me everytime,” and only then Dean realizes that he’s missed the whole thing.

“Yeah,” he says.

Watching them at the table is always a jarring experience.

But just a "How’s the – dental practice going?" is enough to kick off the longest most absurd recount of Garth’s last few years and Dean finds himself laughing heartily with a hand on his chest, having forgotten all about the raw cow hearts on their plates.

They talk about things to do in Winsconsin and Dean tells them about that one time when he was a kid and got sick on cream puffs at a fair. Even Cas talks about Claire non-stop for a solid minute an a half, which is honestly impressive.

Bess and Garth want to know all about Sam and Eileen. When Dean says they’re splitting up more these days, Bess nods and says, “Yeah, I imagine you all enjoy a bit of privacy.”

Dean hears loud and clear the implication that him and Cas are like Sam and Eileen but doesn’t really know how to correct her, so he doesn’t.

He knows he can’t blame her. He’s not totally oblivious to the way they look from the outside. Working together, living together - just that would be enough to assume. But Dean hasn’t looked at anyone else in years either so – yeah. He knows how it looks.

Cas doesn’t say anything either, and doesn’t show any signs as to whether he’s picked up the implication but Dean can never really be sure with him.

That’s about around the time Dean realizes he’s shifted towards him and has an arm draped on the back of his chair.

Cas hasn’t said anything about that either. Dean doesn’t remove it.

Garth proposes a toast to Bobby and Dean loves him a little bit more and then Bess asks them what they’re doing for the holidays and looks shocked when he says that they haven’t really thought about it yet.

“But Christmas is in two weeks!”

Dean is about to say that they never really did holidays and they’re always on the road anyway, so it doesn’t matter and they don’t care, but for some reasons he settles for, “I guess – if we’re not working – then we’ll get Sam and Eileen and just -”

He doesn’t know what they’ll do.

Garth makes that face he makes when he finds him adorable.

It makes his skin crawl.

“What would you like to do?” he says and Dean feels hot all of the sudden as Cas looks his way as well.

“Nothing,” he blurts out, feeling his face reddening, “I mean, just stay at home, relax. That’d be great.”

Bess smiles, “That doesn’t sound like such an impossible plan now, does it?”

Cas softly says, “No, it doesn’t,” and Dean’s heart starts pounding.

“Next year we could get the families together,” jumps in Garth and that makes him laugh again.

From the fact that he doesn’t think right away that it’s the most horrible idea that Garth could possibly have, he realizes he’s having a good night.

And even later when he brings to the kitchen the last of the plates and sees Garth and Bess share a kiss and a laugh over the sink, he smiles. He’s careful not to make any sounds as he puts the plates down on the counter and tiptoes back to the dark living room.

Cas is standing near the tree, looking at the decorations and Dean silently joins him.

They smile at each other briefly and go back to watch the tree.

Considering how they’ve started the day, Dean thinks it’s not a bad way to end it.

The guest room is – well, like the rest of the house, colourful wallpaper, soft carpets, floral-scented bedsheets. And a Santa on the nightstands with cheeks that light up. Dean puts it under the bed first thing cause it creeps him out.

Garth says, “Are you gonna be alright in here?”

“I don’t sleep,” reassures him Cas and Dean wants to retort that for someone who claims he “just lays down” he sure knows how to steal the covers.

“Yeah, Garth,” he says instead, “We’ll be up early and leave through the backdoor.”

“Well, guys,” Garth says on the door, his eyes swelling up, “It’s been so good to have you here.”

“Yeah, thank you for everything, Garth,” Dean says and he really means it. “We had a good time.”

Garth shakes his head. “You guys make me cry.”

He pulls him into a hug and then moves to do the same with Cas.

“Come back, whenever you want. And have a very merry Christmas.”

Dean closes the door behind him and leans his back against it with a deep sigh. “If I’d walked home instead of coming here I’d be less tired, I think.”

Cas huffs a laugh as he unties his shoes.

They undress in silence and slips under the covers.

Dean turns off the lights and looks up at the ceiling.

"It’s nice,” Cas says unexpectedly in the dark, “what they have."

A weight drops on Dean’s chest.

"Yeah,” he agrees in the end, “it's nice."

After a moment, Cas speaks again.

“Dean?”

“Mh?”

“We don’t have to – go home straight away,” there’s a pause. The familiar shape of Cas shifts next to him, “We could find some cream puffs for you to get sick on.”

“That’s sweet,” Dean huffs a laugh. “I appreciate it, Cas.”

He settles more comfortably against his pillow.

“I mean it,” Cas keeps going, and his whisper is a lullaby, “We don’t have to find another case. We could just go meet Sam and Eileen in Illinois. Drive home together.”

Dean likes the idea very much.

“Yeah, we could do that.”

He feels his eyes falling shut.

“We could make it home in time for Christmas,” Cas’ voice is saying.

Dean’s lips stretch into a smile.

“Yeah, let’s do that, Cas.”

He falls asleep.

joining @bend-me-shape-me in doing this!

#SPNAdventCalendar2020 #deancas #destiel #deancas ficlet #destiel fanfic #3.6k #garth fitzgerald iv #holiday time at garth's house #fluff #this one exploded on me #but i had a lot of fun #i love these prompts !!!!#they light up my brain #domesticity is my vocation #my writing

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soldrawss · 4 years

Note

Your big brother Mikey AU is so cool and well thought out! I was wondering, do the Foot still exist in this AU and if so, are the Hamato brothers in any danger? Does Mikey work as a pizza delivery boy?

The Foot exist yes! But they’re more of like, a street gang than anything else. (Kinda like how the Purple Dragons were in previous iterations) For the most part, the Hamatos don’t really have anything to do with them. Raph and Donnie and Leo know they’re not allowed out after 6 without an adult with them and Mikey’s taught Leo and Donnie enough self-defense (from what he can remember of their father’s training) to help them if they’re ever in need. “If you’re ever cornered, give them whatever they want and don’t make a move unless you absolutely have to. I mean it, guys. I’m not showing you this so you guys can play heroes, this is only, and I mean only, to be used as a last resort. But I want you to comply with any demands they give and get out of there. I don’t care if they take your phones and wallets and backpacks. We can always replace bus passes and school work. I can’t replace you guys.”

The only time the Foot were ever an issue was when Mikey gets mugged when he’s 17 on his way home from one of the shitty jobs he worked the nightshift at on one of the piers. The subway station was empty, probably because it was the dead of night and Mikey got off earlier than he usually does, so the station was bare of the usual tiny rush of new yorkers coming in for the graveyard shifts. Thankfully Mikey’s reflexes were faster than his brain was, and he was able to avoid too much of a conflict before the three-membered group got the upper hand. His phone go broken in the struggle, but they thankfully didn’t get to his wallet or key ring. They did land a couple of solid hits to his jawline and gut though, knocking the air clean out of Mikey, and ripped his best work shirt in the process of throwing him to the ground (he only had two), so really the struggle ended with a heated tie. The small gang turning hightail when a security officer making the rounds chased them off and helped Mikey to his feet from one of the concrete pillars he was slumped against.

Mikey ended up arriving home late anyway despite the head start because he had to fill out an accident report with the security officer, and that had just about drained the last ounce of energy Mikey had left to his name as he practically crawled through the front door of their little apartment. He kicked it closed with his feet, forgetting that it was 1am and that he shouldn’t be making as much noise as he was making because it was a school night, and Leo had been having a wack sleep schedule lately, and if he woke up now, he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep till the next night and that would have totally been on Mikey. But Mikey was too tired to think that far ahead as far as the consquences of his actions go, and promptly dumped all his stuff on the foyer floor and passed out on the living room couch, not even bothering to change his clothes or take off his shoes, let alone fold the couch out into a bed.

He woke up some four hours later, to Donnie patting his arm gently but firmly, and with sharp brown eyes and a creased brow just barely peeking under a mess of brown-haired cowlicks and bed head.

“-ikey. Mikey, wake up. Your face is purple.” And the sheer tension and fear in his voice were enough to pull Mikey out of the desperate hold sleep had him in as he got up slowly, rubbing his face and ow, yeah, his whole left side was swollen and sore and felt gross.

“Ahhh, yeah. Some guys tried to jump me at Water and Fletcher station. I’m totes magoats fine kiddo. They didn’t get my wallet or anything. Phone broke though, so I’ll have to swing by a CVS and pick up a burner until I can get a new one.” Mikey explains all in one murmured half yawn. He didn’t like the way Donnie’s face did a complicated little series of frowns and pouts, which could have meant one of a million things, but Mikey just woke up, so he didn’t really have all the brainpower yet to try and decode it other than, oh no I made him mad.

“Go put on some pjs and wash your face,” Donnie replies, and he waffles from where he’s crouched beside the couch like he wants to say something more, but settles on sighing and standing straight. He makes his way to the kitchen quietly, carefully picking up the mess Mikey left in front of the door a few hours ago and unceremoniously dumps them on the kitchen island on his way to rummage through the freezer. Mikey watches as he pulls out a bag of frozen peas before getting one of the dishtowels hanging from the oven handle and wetting it down in the sink. “I’ll get you some ibuprofen, but you need to sleep in your bed or you’re gonna be sore all over. I swear, that couch was the worst decision we ever made, I can’t believe you made us carry it up 6 flights of stairs.”

“Shhhh, don’t listen to him baby, how was I supposed to know the elevator would decide to break down that day?” Mikey whispers not at all quietly to the couch just to get a begrudging half-smile out of Donnie. It works for a fraction of a second, but Donnie’s pouting frown and worried eyes return when he looks at Mikey’s nasty little kick in the face bruise, and Mikey can’t help but feel the weighted rock of guilt settle further in his gut. He just couldn’t do anything right lately, huh? “Anyway, thanks Dee, but I’ll just take a shower and get changed for my shift at Tony’s. Work starts in a few hours anyway and I can run to CVS really quick before then.”

But when he gets up and makes his way over towards the bathroom, Donnie blocks his path and presses a damp dishtowel wrapped around the frozen veggies and some pills into his hands. “No need, you’re staying home. I already called into your work for you. One of the GM’s, Woody, I think his name is? Anyway Woody seemed really cool. Gave you today and tomorrow off. Even said he’d swing you some paid vacation time if you bring some of your famous lemon squares into work on Monday, so really you have no excuse to object or complain.”

And Mikey wants to complain, and he almost does, but Donnie shoots down his squawk of disapproval with a pointed glare that Mikey hates being at the other end of. “And don’t you dare say you’re fine, Mikey. Your face looks like a bruised plum. Please, just, take the day off, sleep, do laundry, whatever. Raph can even stay home with you, if you really need some more incentive. But just, stay here for today. Ok?”

And he was begging in that way that Donnie and Leo almost never pull on Mikey, because they knew Mikey would crumble like an absolute sucker at those round brown eyes, warm like melted chocolate, and it was a power move that they only used for absolute good. And Mikey guessed that if he was swinging those bright round headlights his way, then this must have been a pretty good reason, and honestly, his bed did seem like something he’d love to just crash into for the rest of the day. So he nods, and lets Donnie lead him to towards the bedroom he shares with Raph, who’s still sleeping soundly on his side of the room.

Mikey doesn’t remember much after that. He changes into some pjs and disgards his shoes at the bottom of his bed while Donnie goes to get him a glass of water for the medicine. He falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow and Donnie rests the makeshift ice pack against his swollen cheek.

Mikey vaguely remembers Raph climbing into this bed a little later, scooching over with a practiced and natural ease so the little five-year-old could squirm his way perfectly against Mikey’s chest, resting his head just under Mikey’s chin, and Donnie poking him in the side, just long enough to tell him that Leo and him will be back home after Leo’s baseball practice and that they’ll pick up a burner phone for him.

Mikey untangles an arm from under the comforter and holds it out towards Donnie, an unsaid invitation that doesn’t take more than a second to understand because Donnie is leaning forward into it anyway, and it’s an awkward hug, but it’s warm, and as the 10-year-old wraps familiar arms around Mikey’s half-hug, squeezing back just as tightly, he presses a kiss into his kid’s bubble gum smelling hair, freshly shampooed, and smiles when he says. “Thanks Dee. Be safe. Love you.”

And his face is still a sorry mess of pain and swollen hurt, but Raph is a solid warmth against his chest, and there are some leftover ingredients for some lemon bars in the cupboard, and he’d been waiting to try out that new veggie lasagna recipe he never had the time for before anyway, and Donnie winks at him wordlessly behind his thick-framed glasses, and somehow Mikey has the distant and fading thought before he slips into sleep again, that he should have known that Donnie always gets his way in the end. And Mikey isn’t upset by that thought at all.

#my fic #big brother mikey au #rottmnt #tmnt #oh i didn't specify here but no mikey's not a delivery boy #Mikey never gets his licence ever #and that may or may not be due to the fact that his father died in a car accident and mikey doesn't want to learn how to drive because of it #but anyway enough of that sadness that it's what this post is about #mikey's jobs vary #he quits working at the pier after this accident because it's just too dangerous and he cant risk something happening to himself like this #which then puts his bros in danger too #so he quits and continues to work at tony's pizzeria part time and ends up getting another job at an art store selling art supplies #he has a few more jobs after than till he gets a permanent and decent paying one at as a waiter/pastiere at Hueso's #and hueso ends up adopting mikey right there on the spot #that's also where he meets LH!

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whispersafterdusk · 3 years

Text

Lost in Time - ch 20

"Better have a good reason for dragging me out here, fellow."

The nights on this side of the river were unbearably hot, and the wind blew sand into every nook and cranny of person and building alike; Windsor could have sworn he learned in grade school that deserts were chilly at night but Eufala seemed to be different in that regard -- maybe it was the proximity to both the river and ocean, since the humidity alone was enough to make you want to die during the day.

That heat and humidity had already soured his mood by the time he'd returned to his motel room, and finding the little note jammed under his pillow hadn't done much to alleviate it; now here he was out in the middle of the desert, filling his boots with sweat, staring down the muscle-head that had left the note.

Franklin was an intimidating figure whose image was slightly undercut by the moonlight glistening on the healthy amount of sweat on top of his bald head; it was taking every ounce of self control Windsor had to not comment or laugh about it, or stare as a single bead finally ran down off the man's dome and traced a line to the lobe of his ear, then disappeared down his neck to soak into the collar of his shirt. ((Continued below cut))

"You're not one of them, are you? Duvos soldier, I mean."

Windsor met the man's gaze and shook his head. "Nope - just a humble bounty hunter and mercenary for hire. What's it to you?"

Franklin folded his massive arms with a grunt and a nod. "Figured as much. Listen. Xan's on the hook for some murders. He was given - "given" command of this last job," he repeated, flapping his fingers as he said it, "-and then, poof, dead commander. Xan's rise through the ranks has always been on the backs of the dead -- loads of blood in his wake but never anything that tied him directly to anything, but this one they can't let slide on a maybe."

The man went silent then and Windsor could tell by the look on his face that he was expecting a reaction; he kept his expression blank and let the silence drag on until the meat head was clearly getting frustrated. "Right. And?"

"...and so I'm here to screw things up for him. If he's discredited on something this important then no one is going to care if he disappears. The higher ups are willing to sacrifice another chance at an AI just to get him gone."

Windsor rolled his eyes. "I see where this is going and no thank you. This is your bed - shit in it all you like but I'm not joining you."

Franklin's eyes narrowed. "If Xan takes a fall so do you since you're a part of this damn group."

"I'm not an empire native and also don't give a flying rat's ass about the man or his politics -- if anyone wants to make a stink about it I've got the papers to prove I'm just a hired hand, and if they STILL don't like that I've got ways to get out of their hands. If you want to convince one of the others that they need to save their backsides then by all means do so; I won't stand in your way or narc you out. But leave me out of this."

Franklin growled. "You saw 'em -- they aren't going to break ranks."

Windsor shrugged. "Yeah, and? What would've you done if they HAD?"

"Kidnapped the woman, dragged her back to Duvos - I've got my orders to screw this up but nothing says I can't benefit in the process. So long as the job isn't done as ordered and Xan's embarrassed. He stakes his reputation on his plans always going AS planned down to the letter, so-"

"Oh please, THAT'S your back up plan? Original plan or not that would only make Xan look good! You're as dumb as you look, as dumb as I suspected, and my answer is STILL 'no goddamn thank you.' Mind your business and I'll mind mine."

The other simply narrowed his eyes and glared; Windsor gave it another few breaths then turned to leave. He kept his ears trained for any approaching steps (as he half-expected the man to attack him with his back turned) but he made it back to the motel without issue, and after emptying the sand and sweat out of his boots he unclipped his dagger harness and rolled into bed.

Whatever trouble there was in paradise wasn't any of his concern; he'd been hired to help steal an AI and that was that.

Pity about Xan though...man really did have a reputation for getting things done. Whatever methods he used aside Duvos would surely take a hit in the espionage and acquisitions department if they took Xan out of the chain of command. Was rather interesting to hear that they were actually willing to do something about him...Duvos had some cutthroat politics and supposedly a lot of things were overlooked or praised as being ambitious but whoever that commander had been that he offed must have had parents REALLY far up the chain who had the pull to go after him.

At least Franklin's half-assed recruiting attempt had given him a fair head's up that once they'd paid for his services then Windsor should get the hell out of town and lay low. Maybe he'd leave the meat head enough for a single drink as a parting gift -- assuming the man's own tactics didn't leave him dead at the end of all this.

----------------------------------------------

"It's not important right now."

Remington mentally sighed; they'd been trying to get the date of Eli's birthday out of her for five days now and she'd stubbornly insisted each time that they had more pressing matters to attend to. And yes, while technically she was correct, he didn't see any harm in them knowing when to wish her a simple "happy birthday" with the rest of it coming later. It wasn't exactly an argument but whatever you wanted to call it was interrupted by a familiar wobble from his bad knee; he immediately froze -- an impressive feat considering he was partly bent over in a stretching pose, and by shifting his good leg he was able to avoid toppling over onto his head (this time).

Eli grabbed him by the shoulders and helped him straighten up, and when he turned around she was frowning down at his legs. "Stubborn injury, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Been like that for awhile now. I've learned to live with it."

"If we just knew what was wrong I bet Stewart could fix it."

"Really? Even without all the fancy technology?"

She nodded. "Really. I've been trying to get up to speed with Xu about what survived the years and what's been developed since everything fell apart. Kind of makes me wonder if we really NEEDED all that tech back then. Made things easier but at its most basic a lot of surgeries are done in essentially the same way regardless of whether it was a man or machine holding the blade... We had an old saying about reinventing the wheel and while innovation was always pushing for new heights there were a lot of things you could say we had down to an art and couldn't really change. Can't remember the last time I'd read about a new medical advancement...and I was married to a researcher."

With Eli helping he lowered himself into the grass and rubbed gingerly at his knee; every couple of days, on top of any strength training they found the time for, Eli had him working with stretches and light exercises specifically meant to try and help that joint. So far he'd not noticed any changes aside from being constantly sore but at this point he was willing to try just about anything as he didn't relish the idea of living the rest of his life with a leg that was always threatening to suddenly buckle if he moved wrong.

"Still, a lot of things made life easier. Bare minimum," she went on, "I'd love to have at least one functional imaging machine. See everything inside without having to open you up."

"How'd those work?"

"Couldn't begin to tell you, beyond trying to explain how X-rays, radioactive tracers, and magnetic imaging works which, aside from basic facts about them, is well out of my scope of knowledge. Now, if I had Darren, or Peter or Ashley here, any of them could talk themselves blue in the face explaining how any given medical instrument worked. Stewart could explain it too if you're interested."

Peter and Ashley...if memory served those were two of the squad mates they had buried in the graveyard (they'd been keeping a close eye on those graves still) and he certainly knew who Darren was. "I won't bother Stewart with that - he'll have his hands full when the next round of scholars shows up."

With a groan she let her head drop back, staring up into the sky. "Don't remind me. The first group was nosy enough."

"These ones are coming from Vega 5 and ought to be more interested in the technical side of things rather than...well."

She flashed him a smile. "Rather than wanting to study me and how folks in the Old World lived?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. I didn't think they were bothering you too much...were they?"

"Not...really? It kind of depends on how you want to quantify it - they didn't ask to meet with me a lot, but when they did they had notebooks full of questions that Stewart's social and technical programming couldn't answer and it'd take me an entire day to get through them."

He frowned. "You could have said something if they were imposing on you too much."

"I could have. But I didn't see a point in it," she sighed. "It was something that needed to be done."

He sat up and looked at her; compared to Arlo or the Flying Pigs he didn't really get a lot of one-on-one time with her outside of these recent stretching sessions but still even he could tell something was a bit...off with her tone. Like she was tired, or sad (and he didn't really need to consider why). "You've got all the time in the world to answer questions."

"Maybe. It just seemed easier to get them out of my hair and get back to-"

"-work?" Remington jutted in. "Doesn't seem like you focus on much else. Is everything all right?"

She blew out a breath that trailed into a buzzing raspberry. "Not you too."

"Me too?"

"You, and Arlo, Asher and Xu - asking if I'm all right or need anything all the time or if someone is bugging me."

"...well, friends do that, don't they?"

"They do, but not every problem or bad mood can be solved by having a friend around."

He bent his good leg so he could rest his arms on his knee, and his chin on his arms, as he gazed up at her thoughtfully. "We just -- it's not meaning to suggest anything beyond just wanting you to know the door's open, you know? I can ask everyone to tone it down but we're just - we care. That's all."

She closed her eyes and, after a moment, slumped her shoulders. "I know, and I get it, and I'm thankful for having friends around ready and willing to support and help. But it's... It's like picking at a scab. Each time I get asked, it's picking - and if you keep picking it never closes or heals, and the scar is a million times worse. And with what they did to Darren's grave I feel like someone took a diamond sander to the scab and ground down to the bone. Just when I thought I was doing better. I talk to Xu, and it helps, but each well-meaning question from everyone else is pulling scabs right now."

"All right. I'll quietly let the others know that you'll come to US if you need something and we should stop asking. But, I do know we do really want to know you, and be your friends, and be there. That's why we wanted to know about your birthday -- heck, if there's any holidays you want to celebrate I know we'll figure that out too."

She rubbed her hands across her face and held them there; when she spoke her voice was muffled but Remington didn't think she sounded too upset. "Birthdays were celebrated only on multiples of 5. I was born on the 15th of the first Spring. I would need to check with Stewart to make sure I've got the years right but I last remember passing my 37th birthday."

Remington nodded slowly, and smiled at her; in his mind, very briefly, he thought 'I'm older than she is' followed immediately by the realization that no, he was not, and no one in the world was older than she was. "All right - I'm sorry if it seemed like I was badgering you on anything but I'm also glad you told me. Do you want me to keep quiet about it?"

"Please. At least until I hit 40."

"It's a deal. How would you celebrate your birthday back then?"

"Gifts, an elaborate dinner. Costume parties were popular. I always ended up with costume parties because New Year's Dawn had just happened, which was a city-wide costume party so you'd always have something on hand you could wear. You'd go door to door singing songs, playing games, giving gifts, dancing in the streets. You'd stay awake as long as you could but it was expected that you'd stay awake from dawn of the last day of the year to dawn of the second day of the new year."

"That sounds an awful lot like celebrating a holiday, and not your own birthday."

She finally dropped her hands away from her face and shrugged at him. "That's what happened if your birthday fell on or close to a national holiday."

Remington went to stand and tested his weight on his bad leg; there were no wobbles, no twinges, no sudden shooting pains. "Sounds like you've had 37 years of getting the short end of the stick, then."

"You learn to live with it. Ready to keep going?"

He didn't protest the sudden change in subject; with a bit more attention and care to how he was moving his body he managed to get through the rest of the exercises without any further trouble, and though he was pretty sore when they were done he didn't mind it too much -- his next patrol would be on horseback so the joint could rest while he rode.

"We'll get there, slowly but surely," Eli said as she walked him to the gate. "Just take it easy for the rest of the day."

"I plan to," he replied with a chuckle. "I was actually just thinking about that." As he latched the gate behind him he could spy Selene heading home - she was just coming out through Portia's gates. "-not to rush off or anything but I better get going. I know Selene is just wanting to pounce over party things."

"Oh I know. She's babbled about your birthday party these last few days. All the more reason for YOU to keep your trap shut."

Remington laughed. "I swear on my honor your secret is safe with me. See you later, Eli."

He hurried off and was able to dodge around Selene with a hurried 'sorry, late for my patrol' and then he was huffing and puffing up the hill toward the Corps building to collect Arrow.

When he got there though he found his saddle was missing. That was odd.

Spacer was there however and that saddle was where it was supposed to be; Remington hurriedly scribbled a note of explanation for Arlo and left it pinned to Spacer's stable stall then saddled him and headed down the road, and wondered how the heck he'd managed to misplace a saddle. Maybe someone had moved it since they were cleaning out the back wall in preparation of replacing a few shelves that were starting to dry rot and his was the only saddle that sat near those particular shelves. Most of what had been sitting on those shelves was currently in a jumbled pile in the corner across from there...maybe he ought to clean a bit of that up when he got back from patrol.

----------------------------------------------

He didn't mind that Remington had borrowed Spacer -- the horse liked the man well enough so Arlo knew there wouldn't be any trouble from the animal (unlike Teddy who typically wouldn't let anyone but Sam ride him).

What he DID mind though was by the time he'd found the note the missing saddle was back in its place, and after checking it over he found that a lot of the stitching had been carefully frayed with a knife so that it was highly likely that if Remington had been IN the saddle, moving quickly, and had made any sudden movements or sudden stops, the straps would have given way and dumped him off the horse. Teddy's saddle had likewise been tampered with but not as badly as Arrow's, and Arlo was both relieved he'd discovered that before Sam went out on a ride as well as extremely anxious for Remington's safe return because he had no reason to believe that Spacer's saddle hadn't also been sabotaged.

It was really beginning to feel like whoever was causing their current problems was trying to spread them as thin as possible, as Arlo's first thought upon discovering the sabotaged saddles was "great, now we have to watch the stables."

But...no. That was doing exactly what their spy and or vandal would want.

He still believed that the Stupid Plan idea of Eli's had merit - in fact, this was probably a result of that, assuming their spy was also their vandal - but it was time for a change in strategy.

---------------------------------------------

"Looks like we'll be up and running within two weeks then."

It had been awhile since they'd ALL been together out at the facility; they were clustered inside the tent, looking over a collection of blueprints and measurements for the security door and signal transmitters. Eli had been shifted off her patrols and onto helping Selene get the rest of the transmitter parts made, along with the towers they'd be mounted on. With Eli's assistance they wouldn't need to bring in another builder for the assembly (though Higgins was producing the metal struts needed for the towers) and that left Merlin and Petra in charge of assembling the power sources (a mix of hydro, wind, and power stones).

Between work on that, and Mint overseeing the project to get the door installed...two weeks. They would need to manage for two weeks, and then they could bring their full attention down on catching their spy. It was nice to know that the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel wasn't something that was going to run them over.

"Do we have anything new to discuss?" Mali asked, pausing to look around at each of them in turn.

Beside him Arlo cleared his throat and Asher turned to look at him as he leaned forward to brace his hands on the little table.

"Yes, actually. Someone sabotaged all of our saddles yesterday. I think it's time we get a bit more aggressive - try to draw this person out into the open."

"I agree, because whoever this is uh-" Sam stopped abruptly, glancing briefly at Eli, before sighing. "-we had some graffiti to clean up early this morning."

"About me, I'm guessing," Eli said.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Nothing too nasty but basically urging you to leave town, claiming you don't belong here, that sort of thing."

"What was the graffiti made with? Do we have any record of anyone buying paint of that color?" Remington asked.

This time she shook her head. "It was done with charcoal - really easy to clean up, thankfully, but it doesn't point to where it came from or who had it. And of course no one saw anyone doing it AND it was all at different heights so we can't really narrow anything down."

Arlo huffed. "Of course. Regardless -- I worry that letting this stretch on any further will only result in someone getting seriously hurt. It's clear our initial plan has definitely made this person more bold - just not bold enough to come close to us like they did at the tent. I think this may be the best we're going to get so we need to come up with our plan to catch them."

Remington nodded, running a hand through his hair briefly; it was hot and stuffy in this tent with all of them inside it and Asher felt his scalp prickle in the heat just watching how Remington's hair clumped together in damp strands. "We've set a trap once before for that rogue knight - we can always do it again."

"Well, maybe," Sam said, drawing out the last word. "The thing is, THAT time we definitely knew what the knight was after. There's a lot more down in the facility besides Stewart and if we set a trap it needs to be baited with whatever it is they're hoping to steal."

"It also needs to look natural - we got away with the last trap since it was in a ruins that were already falling apart. This facility is much more preserved and it's going to be harder to set something up without it looking off," Mali added.

In the brief pause that followed that exchange Asher sat up a bit straighter. "Well, it's common knowledge that we're expanding the clinic in town soon. We could use that as our staging area instead since it's going to be pretty obvious that we're moving Stewart's station there."

Arlo grimaced. "Yes, but that would be dangerous and tricky. Setting this trap would be dependent on no one else being at risk of injury -- we know this person is armed, after all, and we can't control when someone might try to trip the trap. I don't want to put Dr. Xu or Harrison, or anyone else who might be at the clinic, in danger."

Eli lightly elbowed Asher in the ribs. "AND I don't want Stewart's tech in danger of being damaged either -- if it breaks that's it because while I MIGHT know how to fix it it won't be as simple as heading down to the shop to pick up the right parts."

"Yeah...you're right about that part," Asher muttered. "So it would have to be replicas, and we'd be guessing at what the spy would go for. Do you think they'd actually know what to grab if we baited them with the server stuff or basic computer pieces?"

Eli raised an eyebrow. "Assuming they're not expecting that again? I could make something that looks genuine, important, and expensive."

Remington let out a thoughtful noise, leaning toward Eli. "How complicated would it be to do that? I don't even know what...whatever we're talking about looks like."

"Not...TOO complicated, I don't think? I -- hang on, wait. Before we get too far ahead of ourselves I need to know what's common knowledge about tech these days. Exactly how complicated and fancy I'd need to make the replicas would kind of depend on what people know or think these things look like."

They all fell silent; Asher glanced about and could see lots of thoughtful faces - he was hopeful that that meant someone had an answer, because he definitely didn't. Technology wasn't something he studied or thought about much and he'd consider himself the last person anyone ought to be asking about Old World stuff.

Finally, Mali tipped her head back to look up toward the tent's ceiling. "There's some common knowledge about Old World components but it's mostly regarding the things we commonly find. Everyone knows what chipsets are, circuit boards, monitors and displays, and odds and ends that get lumped together just as 'old parts.' We also have access to old engines of varying types that we've successfully re-created ourselves so we no longer need to rely on digging them up. In this case... I'm not sure I have the answer. But I know who would."

There was a brief pause then Arlo nodded. "Ah, right. The scholars from Vega 5 will be here soon."

Mali nodded. "Vega 5 is full of people who have studied Living AIs, and they and Atara both have large libraries full of blueprints and books on Old World tech along with everything their museums have catalogued on display. They'd be the ones to ask about what they would consider common knowledge."

"But would they know what's common knowledge in Duvos though?" Eli asked.

Mali shrugged. "It's possible. I'm not privy to everything that's been discovered through the Alliance's information networks -- the Flying Pigs are an adventuring guild who sometimes get tapped to help provide law enforcement. I know more than most but ultimately we're not a military group so we're only told what we need to know for the tasks we're given." Eli scratched at her cheek; Asher noted that, due to the heat and sweat, the simple gesture left a pair of angry red marks across her skin "Right... Maybe I should go talk to Gale when we're done here -- er, assuming you aren't putting me back on patrol duty?" she added after a moment, looking to Arlo.

"No, go talk to Gale - this is important. Afterward get back to those signal transmitters," came Arlo's answer.

"Understood."

"You sure you don't need an extra pair of hands with those things?" Asher asked then, looking between Arlo and Eli. "At the very least I can tote and carry."

Arlo considered that for a moment, then glanced to Eli. "Your thoughts?"

She huffed out a breath. "Carrying, sure. But it'd just slow us down if we have to explain how to assemble. We DO need someone to start bundling the tower pieces and that's also something you could do without much instruction needed - get the finished bits from Higgins, ensure we've got everything, sort it out into sets for assembly. Basic stuff."

"All right -- go ahead and help them with the heavy lifting and getting the tower parts ready to transport. Eli, once you've talked to Gale come find me in the Corps building -- Mali, if you'd like to join me for that feel free." Mali and Eli both nodded, and Arlo blew out a breath. "I think that covers everything-"

"Hey- HEY!"

They all jumped to their feet at the shout from beyond the tent; Asher was still getting to know a lot of the townsfolk but he thought that sounded a lot like--

As he was closest to the tent flap Asher stuck his head out to see Albert sprinting toward them; when the man saw him he started waving his hands and his sprint was slowing. Asher in turn hurried out of the tent and began running toward him, faintly aware of the sound of several pairs of feet following along behind him, and about halfway to the man Albert came to a stop entirely and doubled over with his hands on his knees, panting harshly.

"What's wrong? What's happened?"

"Portia...ruins...cave in..." Albert was gasping as Asher came skidding to a stop beside him. "One under...church..."

"Oh hell," Asher muttered. He spun around as Eli, Arlo, Mali, and Remington reached them. "Cave in at the ruins under the church."

"Was anyone hurt?" Arlo asked immediately. Albert could only nod as he struggled to catch his breath and Arlo broke into a run again while calling orders over his shoulder. "Asher - take Albert to the tent to catch his breath. Remington and Eli with me."

The others went running off and Asher put a hand on Albert's shoulder. "Sit down here in the grass, mind the marshy spots - we'll take a minute here and then we'll walk to the tent, all right?"

"I'll ask Sam to stay out here with Adam," Mali interrupted. "After that I will join Arlo and the others in town - stay with Albert until he's recovered then escort him back to town."

"Got it," Asher replied. Mali immediately ran back the way she'd come and Asher turned his attention back to Albert. "Deep breaths, man, it'll be all right. Do you know what happened?"

Albert took several more breaths; he seemed to be breathing a bit easier. After an especially deep breath he lifted his head to look up at Asher. "Not...a clue. Heard a...loud noise. Couple folks...out of the ruins, shouting...about a cave in. Gale already there...told me to come get you all. I was closest."

Damn it... They should have had this meeting at the Corps building, not all the way out here; even as he thought that he knew that was very unfair as all their patrol routes for this morning had had them all out this way and it was quickest and easiest to gather here, but... Well, honestly it could have been worse timing. At least out here they'd all been in one place but had this happened at any other time of day or any other day in general they would've been spread across the countryside with only two of them in town.

"Think you can make it to the tent? We'll get some water in you, can sit a bit, then we'll head back to Portia."

Albert nodded and straightened and the two of them began to (slowly) walk toward the Pigs's tent. Mali was already heading back toward them and they exchanged nods as she passed and kept on going.

"What kind of loud noise did you hear?"

"Just a loud boom and a rumbling."

Asher frowned - a loud boom? "Like...a KABOOM-kind of boom? Like something exploded?"

"I couldn't tell you. It was more - more of a sound that sort of hit you in the chest, more than in the ears, and one you could feel through your feet. Our building is closest to those ruins so it's no wonder that we heard something."

"We? You and Gust I'm guessing?"

Albert nodded. "I went to the ruins, and Gust went for Gale. And then Gale told me to run out here."

"How many came out of those ruins?"

"Um - I saw three folks. Covered in dust, one of them was bloodied. They were all shaken up and just shouting 'cave in cave in' over and over."

Asher went quiet, chewing on his lower lip. He wanted to simply believe that the ruins had partially collapsed but something nagged at him over it; the Civil Corps and the Flying Pigs both conducted regular inspections of all ruins across the Alliance of Free Cities to make sure they remained safe for public use. There's NO WAY they would've missed a structural weakness that was so dangerous as to cause a cave in...someone on the inside had to have caused this. A careless digger, or...

The saddles might have just been the first attempt to send a message.

---------------------------------------------

Four injured, one dead. All in all, considering there had been eight people inside the ruins at the time of the collapse, it could have been much worse.

Still. It was slightly guilt-inducing to feel relieved that ONLY one person had been killed -- no one was sure where she'd come from but they'd matched her description to the list of Happy Apartment hotel-based rentals so they had a name but no way to contact any next of kin, nor did they know if this Kara person had any sort of surname at all either. It would make for a somewhat plain headstone but at least they had the first name.

Sam, along with Mali and Higgins, had worked quickly to get a makeshift door in place and the rest of the entryway to the ruins boarded up; tomorrow Dana would be traveling to Portia to help Mali investigate what had caused the collapse. Sam had wanted to go in with them as well but she'd gotten a resounding "no" from Arlo, Mali, and Gale - all at the same time, no less. She supposed that made sense as she wasn't a miner or builder or anyone who would know anything about structural integrity (or whatever Mali had called it), and the fewer people at risk inside for a follow up collapse, the better.

As she walked up the hill toward the Corps building it was hard to miss the silence in this half of town; Ack hadn't been at his usual spot in the plaza, there weren't any tourists or townsfolk walking about. Even the Round Table had seemed a bit quiet when she'd passed by moments ago.

Portia had certainly had a streak of bad luck lately... The pessimistic side of her wondered how the spy would find a way to take advantage of the chaos.

As she crested the hill she spotted a man leaning against the railing of the stairs that led down to the central plaza; he had his back to her but she recognized the coat he had on (even in this heat).

"Bob? I thought you would've moved on by now," she called out.

The man jumped and spun around, stumbling a bit as he boot caught on an upraised stone. "Huh! Huh? Well. Yeah, maybe. Thought I should. Been tired lately."

Sam nodded and walked over, crossing her arms and eying the man. He was a harmless drifter and she didn't suspect anything of him but he was also somewhat regular - he arrived in the spring, left at the start of the summer season, and then came back mid-autumn. "Something wrong?"

"Not really. Just got a feeling. Road might not be safe."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I remember someone telling me there was a thief around. I don't carry valuables. But that's not all someone could take."

"Bob... Do you think someone's trying to harm you in some way?" she asked.

The man fidgeted a bit. "Not me. I think? But I've seen some ghosts. Footprints out of thin air. I don't want to share a road with it."

Sam stared at him. "...where did you see these footprints? Can you show me?"

Bob shook his head. "Not now - been too long. Saw them on the beach while I was stargazing. Walking west. Too close to where I'd pass going back south."

"How long ago was this?"

The man shrugged, then scratched at his head. "Not sure. I don't do so well with time anymore."

"But it was recent, at least?"

He nodded; Sam mulled that over -- it sounded like Bob had spotted their spy out in the wild. "How about we walk together to where you saw the footprints and you tell me whatever you can remember about when you saw them and what you were doing?"

He nodded again and walked with her back down the hill. As they passed under the gates she wondered if she shouldn't call for back up but... Well. She could think of a lot of reasons to do so, and the reasons not to didn't seem as convincing so as they continued down the road she gestured for them to detour toward Selene's house. Eli ought to be in the factory helping assemble, and Asher ought to be here too. Surely one of them could shift over to walk out to...wherever, with her and Bob.

---------------------------------------------------------

That she hadn't known Kara made it easier to look genuine when it came to keeping her expression appropriately sad-looking as they buried the woman; it was a small ceremony with a smattering of Portians present, along with the full force of the Civil Corps -- being as she didn't see them she assumed that the Flying Pigs members were out at the facility, as usual. They seemed to never, ever leave the place unguarded and, as she'd discovered the other evening while doing some recon, there was a gigantic build project of some kind being carried out at the facility's entrance now -- if she had to guess it looked like some sort of covering, or door.

That likely meant they were really doubling down on the security out there, and while what she was after was being moved out of the facility she was beginning to get worried -- if they sealed that place up tight that would free the Pigs up to directly watch the construction of the clinic addition and the installation of the All Source AI.

And that would make Lily's job even harder while now also being down a team member.

After the funeral it was announced that the ruins would be closed for the time being to conduct an investigation into the cause of the collapse; that at least didn't effect any of them remaining but it ALSO carried the high risk of bringing in more outside people -- more Pigs, more nosy law-types, the possibilities were starting to pile up.

Days ago she'd been bitching about how long it was taking them to start construction; she'd seen buildings put up in a matter of days in Duvos -- how hard could one addition to an already existing building be?

Now... As much as she didn't want to disappoint Xan, they might indeed have to change their plans to have any chance of this heist succeeding.

---------------------------------------------------

They always put out the paper on the first of every month. Always. Without fail -- even if it meant that she and Erwa stayed up all night fixing issues with their printing press machine or working to get wording on an article juuuuust right.

The first of the month was still six days away but Gale had asked for a special edition to be produced. It was the hardest thing Mei had ever had to write: all this...all this alarming detail on a vandal, a thief attempting to break into the medical facility in the marsh, and now the devastating discovery that the cave in two days ago had been purposely caused by tiny explosive charges. It was such awful news that sometimes Mei found her hand shaking as she scribbled notes and drew arrows or crossed out paragraphs as she tried to get things into order both chronologically and also in a manner that flowed well for reading.

There were still a few hours to go before they needed to start printing and there was just one thing Mei wanted to get done before then but then again... It wasn't a nice subject and she didn't want to offend anyone - especially not the person she'd like to interview regarding all this.

But. She wouldn't know if she'd be offending unless she asked.

Selene's workshop was a familiar sight - Mei had been out here a lot over the years, both before and after large city projects were announced and completed with the builder's help - so she knew better than to knock on the house's door and instead marched up to to the factory door and really gave it a good pounding. After a few minutes the door opened and an oil-smudged Selene was framed in the doorway, and once it registered who was there Mei was offered a big, bright smile.

"Hey! What're you doing out here?"

"Hello Selene! I was wondering if Eli was still here?"

Selene nodded and stepped aside, gesturing with one hand toward a makeshift workbench set up perpendicular to her usual one; lined up shoulder to shoulder was Eli, Petra, and Merlin, all hurriedly working to assemble bits and doodads that Mei guessed was all meant to fit into a much bigger contraption of some kind.

It was unusually quiet in here today as well; only a handful of the machines were running -- that must mean whatever Selene was working on either didn't need a lot of pieces or maybe it was almost complete. She stepped inside and out of the way so Selene could close the door and then noted that the latest member of the Civil Corps, Asher, was sorting large metal struts and rods into organized piles against the far wall, moving about in short bursts and then checking off things on a clipboard he had hanging off his belt.

"I'm not interrupting something I shouldn't, am I?"

"Not really - we can spare a pair of hands for a bit." Selene led Mei over toward Eli and the Research Center gals. "Mei's wanting to talk to you, Eli."

The woman looked up at them (though Mei noticed her hands didn't stop what they were doing - it was kind of impressive to see her keep working without her looking at the pieces) and silently lifted an eyebrow.

"Oh - um, yes. I was wondering if you could spare some time to give a few statements for the article we're writing for the paper?" Mei asked into the pause.

"Uh..." Eli drew the word out, returning her attention to what her hands were doing. It seemed immediately clear that whatever her answer was going to be it would have to wait until she'd finished off this piece of...whatever it was; Mei waited patiently, and watched with a bit of curiosity, until Eli had slotted all the pieces together and tightened down all the screws. "-all right, sure. Let's step outside for some air."

Mei led the way outside and then followed as Eli took an abrupt turn to the western side of the factory -- there was a cluster of stools out here and they both settled on one, and Mei hurried to pull out her little notebook.

"All right - of course, if you find any of my questions upsetting it's perfectly fine not to answer. I don't mind at all!"

Eli nodded. "Ask away."

"How would you say the situation is currently going?"

"Which one are you referring to?"

"Let's start with the vandal. It couldn't have been easy to see the gravestone damaged like that."

For several breaths Eli didn't answer. Mei sat patiently with her pen poised over the blank sheet of notebook paper with her free hand pinning the loose edge down; this side of the factory was currently in the shade and the breeze was a bit strong as the wind rushed along the flat brick. It was a nice place to sit but if she wasn't careful her notes would get scattered across the yard since not all the pages were still bound to the wire spiral.

"It wasn't, no. It's clear whoever did it wanted their message heard, and intended it to hurt. It did, I won't lie, but also, it really shows just how much of a coward this person is since they didn't confront me directly. Same with all the other instances of graffiti lately -- they're not brave enough to say anything to my face. In that context, it's a bit comical."

It took about the same amount of time for Mei to write that down as it had for Eli to say it. "-and do you have any guesses as to who this person is?" Eli shook her head but didn't elaborate; Mei added a little mark after the quote to remind herself of the answer. "How about things out at the medical facility? Has there been any further attempts to break in?"

"No, and soon there won't be any chances of a break in either. We're installing a security door and will work toward preserving the facility as it is."

Mei had heard about the door - she wondered what it would look like when it was done. "And do you have any opinion on the expansion at the clinic, since it's rumored that you'll be incorporating an All Source AI into the building?"

Eli blinked at her. "Incorp- uh, maybe that definition has changed in three hundred years but we're not incorporating him into anything. He'll be installed and be there to teach and treat, but he won't be in charge of or able to run the clinic by himself. For one, there's no other computers or AIs for him to oversee, and secondly the building will be just a building without any tech for him to monitor either."

"Do you have any worries about how having an All Source AI teaching humans would be seen in the greater world?"

With a loud sigh Eli leaned back against the brick wall. "I do, sort of. I worry that zealots in your Church won't be able to look past him being a part of the Old World and try to destroy him, in which case all the knowledge he holds would be lost along with him. Hand in hand with that I also worry about what he'd be teaching and to whom."

Mei looked up from her notes in surprise. "You think he'd teach something bad? Or bad people?"

"Not exactly "bad" in either case, its more I worry people will try to somehow hoard the knowledge -- even hypothetical enemies deserve the right to live disease and injury free. I wouldn't really say there's right and wrong people to teach, but I do think there will be people out there who think they're the only ones who have a right to the knowledge, or who think some knowledge is fine but some of it should be scrubbed from history. We even had a bit of a problem with myths and misinformation regarding certain diseases in my time and that was with an entire world's worth of knowledge available to anyone at any time."

Mei slowly nodded at that; it reminded her of an article she'd written a few years ago about the push-back of remedies coming from a doctor in Vega 5. "So, even if people don't want to keep the knowledge to themselves there's also a question of whether some would accept it, at all."

"Exactly. I imagine there's going to be a lot of entrenched doctors scattered across the world who think their way is best and will be unwilling to change. It'll be a bit messy in the upcoming years but I hope the overall health and life expectancy of the world goes up as the knowledge spreads -- and hopefully it'll be fairly uniform across the world, not just in small clusters due to hoarding or refusal to adapt."

With her hand cramping from how quickly she was trying to write Mei managed to get all that down in her notes; she'd gotten a little carried away as she'd only wanted a few lines to quote but this could potentially be an article all on its own. She was just about to shut the book when a thought occurred to her. "Oh! Right - there's been a lot of questions about the metal towers that were put up recently. Are you able to explain what those are for?"

"You guys use telegraphs for long distance communication, right?"

Mei nodded. "For messages that can't wait for couriers."

"Right. So, those towers are the first of many that will hold...how to put it in simple terms... Think of a telegraph that doesn't need wires, is more reliable and secure, and also can just send words instead of having to tap a little button and have someone translate at the other end. We're trying it out here in Portia and maybe in the future, assuming it works and can be reliably maintained, we could extend it across the continent."

"What, really?" Mei asked, eyes widening. "That's huge!"

Eli was giving her an amused look and Mei realized her jaw was hanging open; she scrawled an almost unreadable note about the towers underneath the rest of it. "Ah, um - uh, so, when will THAT project be completed?"

"It'll take some time. Getting everything installed is the easy part. Getting it all to work correctly will be hard."

"So...no...expected...completion date yet?" Mei asked as she wrote, glancing up from the writing to Eli, then underlining the 'no' as Eli shook her head. "That's very exciting... Will it be something anyone could use? Will it cost a lot?"

Eli paused, then offered a half shrug. "Well, I guess that first answer is yes and no. In terms of complexity anyone will be able to use it because it's not difficult at all to learn, but initially there's going to be a problem with getting parts to both maintain and expand it so there won't be a lot of the system in place for widespread use to start. I don't have any idea on cost just yet - we're using a combination of wind, water, and power stones to start off with. I'm relatively certain I know how much energy this will draw but won't know exact numbers until its been up and running for awhile."

"And...you're ok with this technology spreading?"

Eli snorted loudly. "I am," she replied, placing heavy emphasis on 'I.' "No idea about the rest of the world."

Mei hummed to herself as she put down a few more notes. "This could be an article by itself... All right. That was everything I had in mind for this piece. Unless you'd like to add anything?"

"Not in particular."

"Well, thank you!" Mei said, smiling and shoving a hand toward her. Eli shook it with a bit of a smile and then stood. "I'll get this over to the paper and you'll be seeing it in print soon!"

Eli didn't reply beyond nodding, then led the way around the building where she went back inside while Mei headed toward the gate; she felt a bit lightheaded -- like she was floating across the grass. The prospect of a better, more secure communications system that was instantaneous made her giddy; imagine how much faster information could travel. Imagine how quickly a message back home could reach family...how much easier it would be to stay in touch with the Atara Post about her progress with the Portia Times.

There were dozens of ways she could instantly imagine her life getting easier if this communication thing worked, and that was just for HER - she couldn't even clearly conceive all the ways the entire Alliance could make use of such a thing.

As she walked through the doors into the news building she managed to pull her thoughts away from the communications scoop and set herself back on track regarding the special edition Gale had asked them to put out; it didn't appear Erwa was here but that was ok - Mei could work on a rough draft and get his opinion later when he came back.

Eli hadn't been the only one she'd interviewed today so the first order of business was to quickly reread her notes and decide where to insert Eli's bit into the order she'd tentatively decided on earlier; this article needed to be a direct and firm read, with a logical flow to the information, but it couldn't have a tone to it that would cause undue alarm. People had a right to know that the cave in was actually a murder, but how to word it so that it wouldn't cause a panic in town...

And also, the more she thought about it, the less sense it made to include anything referencing the communications project. Prior to talking to Eli she'd assumed the towers were related to the security project out at the facility but now it seemed they were unrelated to each other, and...well, if they had a vandal snooping around it wouldn't do to draw attention to something this valuable.

...yeah. It made more sense to relegate the communications towers to its own separate article, AFTER the vandal (or murderer? Or both?) had been taken care of. At the very least that cut out a good amount of information she would've had to figure out how to fit onto the front page with everything else.

---------------------------------------------------

Windsor had "claimed" a small area of the Peach Plaza for his impromptu performances; a decent number of people expected him to be there in the mornings and later at night, showing off his juggling and throwing skills (a few had even donated some small straw targets for him to use so he'd changed up his routine a bit). It may have just been a cover job but it was bringing in decent money; it was a nice little perk to the whole thing but if they didn't get moving on this theft job soon he wouldn't be able to keep playing off the "too poor to go back home" angle of his cover story.

The atmosphere in Portia seemed a bit...strange this morning. There weren't nearly as many people moving about in the central plaza as usual, and as he went plodding up the hill passed the shops he was a bit alarmed to see a small crowd of people that WEREN'T his usual audience huddled roughly in his spot near the fountain. As he drew closer he could see all of them clutching papers in hand, and there was a dull roar of chatter among them. In their midst was a squat, hairy man in an orange vest and hat, and a blonde woman wearing a blue and white pointy hat; they appeared to be handing out whatever the paper was, and when he finally got close enough to the gathering he saw it was a thin newspaper with "SPECIAL EDITION" printed in big, bold letters across its top with "Portia Times" printed in slightly smaller text beneath it.

Through a gap in the crowd the hat-wearing blonde noticed him, and carefully wound her way through the group toward him with one of the papers in hand, pushed out toward him.

"Good morning, sir - would you like to read this special release of the Portia Times? This copy is free, paid for by Portia's government."

"Uh...sure. What seems to be the ruckus?" he replied, taking the paper and skimming the-

...oh. Oh boy. Well, that wasn't good.

#Lost in Time #lit #Lost in Time - ch 20 #Arlo #Mali #Remington #Sam #Flying Pigs #Albert #Mei #My Time at Portia

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anystalker707 · 4 years

Text

Vampires will never hurt you

🎃Halloween special Pairing: Gerard x Reader Word counting: ~ 3 600 Genre: Terror, suspense, fluff TW: Description of death, though vague Summary: Why not to go to the graveyard at midnight? What can go wrong? Being attacked by a vampire? a/n: I wrote this thinking about Bullets era, but the era’s up to y’all

There was a light thin rain falling outside by the beginning of the day - it seemed incessant and like if it would continue for the whole day like in the previous one, but it came to an end before it was even noon. It was practically just a warning of the colder days that still are to come, maybe a free sample of them, like Ray called it once. Well, a sample wouldn't leave this mess of gross wet dry leaves near the sidewalks or under trees, but that's fine. I'd prefer some different fall vibes.

Even with the clouds leaving, the rest of the day remained kind of cold, with the sun's heat not seeming enough to take over the result of the rain or more so dry the soil properly. It's not really something new and brought a quite pleasing atmosphere, the change evident in how there are more people standing under the sunlight rather than under the shadows, like usual. The chilly air feels just perfect to get a thicker hoodie off the wardrobe; or just steal one of Gerard's, in my case.

Even so, it isn't enough to get us outdoors - it only makes the fact of staying home like always more pleasing.

I'm surprised by Gerard suddenly sitting down beside me, getting my attention off my phone with a kiss being pressed to my cheek. He hums softly as making himself comfortable next to me, resting his head on my shoulder; a pleased smile plays on his lips after I press a kiss to his cheek. He's got the faint smell of the coffee he just drank before going upstairs to take the used cups to the kitchen and also ask Donna if I could stay the night.

"Okay, so," he starts, "my mom says you can stay over but we have to stay out of the basement. They're having a seance to call my grandparents." Shifting around more, he throws his legs over my lap, seeming finally satisfied with our position and the new proximity.

"They are?" I ask him, thinking for a moment then letting out a thoughtful hum after he nods in response. "I guess we should go somewhere if so. You remember how your parents complained a lot that we plus Mikey kept disturbing the place's energy." My eyebrows furrow a bit at the memory, almost ten minutes of scolding that somehow left us feeling guilty for the rest of the night and following day.

"You voiced my thoughts," he says with a small smile, though seeming more focused on playing with my hair. Observing him, I wrap an arm around him, letting the other over his legs, absentmindedly playing with the folds of the jeans. "You've got any place in mind?" He asks again after a moment. "Like, to go to at midnight."

"Of course, the graveyard at midnight is super sexy and not creepy, let's go there."

I roll my eyes at Gerard and look at him, bored; the sarcastic expression remains on his face for a few seconds before he goes back to grabbing what he needs. "What?" I twist my mouth in certain disappointment. "C'mon, it's better than being stuck in your bedroom like we do every day and you know this city has nothing better at this time."

"Well," he shoots me a look, almost pouting. "The way you said it, I thought you had some kind of special spot, like an abandoned bridge or building like in a cheesy fanfic," he teases, giggling after I snort, rolling my eyes at his playful attempt of annoying me.

"I mean, we could go somewhere like the skate park or something, but you know how these are full of idiots." I shrug in frustration, remembering the past experiences. "And I'm not up to getting lost in the woods at night again." My words make him send me a questioning glance, most likely about to ask me about it, but I quickly speak up. "Ask Ray if you wanna know all about it. Dealing with lost ghosts is better."

Gerard gazes at me for a moment then raises his eyebrows like if making a mental note. "Okay, fair point," he trails off, seeming to fumble with something. I raise an eyebrow at him questioningly and he shrugs. "It's holy water," he explains with a tap on the jeans' pocket that held his attention until seconds ago, grabbing his phone and his keys before extending his hand to me.

"Oh, you're on that shit again. Why would you carry holy water around?" I question, taking his hand and pulling Gerard with me out of his room, giving him time to close the door after we leave it. The chains attached to his pants make a tinkling sound as he walks, the metal cross and the pendants hitting each other.

No word come in response; he raises an eyebrow at me, wordlessly asking if I'm being serious. Being met with the same look coming from him mirrored by me, he shakes his head, his face gaining an air of disbelief.

"C'mon," he mutters in defeat, starting to walk down the stairs. A quiet sigh escapes my lips, but I don't say anything in response, inevitably following him.

A cold air embraces us in the same moment we step outside, thankfully not enough to make us shiver; the hoodies hold enough heat to make us warm and the cold breeze is too weak to even send our strands flying. The tips of Gerard's cold fingers touch are still felt through the fabric of my fingerless gloves and I bet his situation isn't much different. He squeezes my hand, rubbing his thumb over my fingers lightly in a poor attempt of heating them up as we look down both sides of the empty street before stepping down the porch.

Only a few lights are on inside the houses while we walk down the street, a pleasing silence hovering around, our footsteps echoing behind us. It lasts until we reached the main street - people occasionally walk by and there's a place or two open, so the faint incoherent talk is heard under the sound of a car eventually passing by. Still, it doesn't make it any worse.

It's rather easy climbing the wall to the graveyard, even more with each other's help. Though not really seeming scared, Gerard looks around the dark place with narrowed eyes once we land on the other side of the wall. I grab the flashlight I brought, lighting our surroundings before pulling Gerard along with me to a rather empty space - there are no graves, just a few trees. Frank and I came here a few times already, with the same intention of avoiding the other places, so the place isn't really unknown to me. It's got a good lighting, with the light posts right on the other side of the wall, that's not so far from the spot.

A kind of relieved sigh escapes my lips as I sit down under the tree, pulling Gerard with me and turning off the flashlight. Only the sound of us sitting against the slightly damp grass and quiet exchanged words cut through the thick silence, which doesn't seem to lose its power even with the occasional night sounds.

"Your choice is still really questionable, but I'll offer you if a demon, vampire or something decides to attack us," Gerard teases as scooting closer to me, grumbling quietly as nuzzling my neck, his cold nose brushing the warm skin affectionately. "I'd throw the holy water at them, but you're not worth my holy water," he continues, sending me a playfully angry look, eyes narrowed and bottom lip sticking out lightly.

"I'm not worth it?" Furrowing my eyebrows in a fake sadness, I scowl jokingly after he nods, a kind of childish air over his manners. "Well, thank you for telling me your plan, then, I'll make sure of running away before you can notice," I tease, chuckling at the glare he sends me followed by a whine. I press a kiss to his lips, what makes him giggle before kissing me again, humming in appreciation against my lips; the once heavy atmosphere we were once set in slowly melting away into a comfortable, almost warm one.

"What'd you bring?" Gerard asks as seeing me shoving a hand inside the hoodie's pocket after pulling away from him.

Preferring to not answer, I just hand him the black can of Monster Energy, followed by the small bag of M&M's he had bought earlier today plus a small bag of chips which contents have most likely been reduced to crumbles with the heavy can pressing against it for almost the whole way here. A pleased hum comes from him as he gets the can first, flicking the can a few times before the sound of it being cracked open echoes in the place and he takes a sip of the drink.

Meanwhile, my phone holds my attention as I try to chose something that fits the mood - a pleased smile stretches my lips once Dig Up Her Bones comes up on the screen and I decide to just let the song play and be surprised by whatever comes next. Gerard raises his eyebrows as soon as he identifies the song, shooting me a glance to show how the choice pleases him too.

Letting out a sigh that finally seems genuinely comfortable, Gerard practically melts against me, seeming to observe the sky for a moment - it's got some stars decorating it, apart from some areas covered by clouds, probably a warning that it'll rain during the night or by the morning because they're slowly taking over the sky.

We're able to shape the ambient into something we're almost used to, the fact it's a graveyard now being a minor detail in the back of our minds while Gerard sips on his drink and I nibble on the chips he occasionally steals from me.

Though the light doesn't really reach further in the graveyard, I'm able to sense someone else's presence, tensing up lightly before looking around. It is like someone is standing some feet away from us, but, still, there's nothing but even more tress and bushes making us company.

"What's wrong, love?" Gerard asks softly, leaning forward lightly, squinting his eyes at the spot I stared at just seconds ago.

"Nothing," I shrug, "'must've been some lost werewolf attracted by the beginning of the song." A chuckle escapes my lips as I say it more of as a joke. Even without seeing it, I can tell Gerard rolls his eyes then I can feel his elbow meeting my side in a light motion, though still carrying a reprehending air. In spite of that, I can hear the faint laughter caught in his throat.

Once again, we fall in comfort, exchanging a few words once in a while as we ate, mostly just enjoying the music playing in the background and pressing occasional lazy kisses to each other's lips.

Everything is fine until I sense the presence again and, suddenly, it's behind me. It's too solid to be just a paranoia from earlier - it blocks the cold breeze from hitting my back and my side and I swear I can feel a shallow breathing. Gerard probably notices how I tense up. At first, his eyes are confusedly flickering over me, first looking at my hand before going up, still not understanding it when he observes my face, but his eyes widen and he freezes too when looking past me.

Gerard's eyes move to mine for a second like if telling me something. I'm not sure about how to interpret it, but follow him as he clumsily stands up and starts running, his hand tight around mine the whole time. Our plan, however, is screwed when we're met exactly with what we feared - at least as a joke.

All the stories about vampires, werewolves or any other kind of beasts are always mostly taken like a joke, though there are a few people who'll tell you their stories about how they escaped a creature's attack if you ask them to. Nonetheless, it's rather easy finding a house with a cross hanging right above the doorway or seeing someone discreetly blessing the doorway or windowsill with holy water and looking around in a hope no one will see them doing it. If you are around for time enough, you'll see how the city has a strong belief in spirits and you'll most certainly gain a curse if you enter a wrong place in the woods - what Ray and I know very well.

Anyways, I'm sure we'll probably be laughed at if we tell someone we went to hang out in the graveyard and ended up being visited by a fucking vampire. Well, that if we fucking survive long enough for so. Their characteristic sharp features are badly illuminated by the light coming from the light posts, the light reflecting on the red sink of their cliché Victorian suit and showing a few metal details, like a pin on the blazer and a chain, probably of a pocket watch. It's rather easy identifying a vampire after hearing the stories that go around and the description of this one isn't really unfamiliar to me. And, like, I don't think a normal person has teeth that sharp, but...

A shaky fuck escapes Gerard's lips, both of us trying to step back from the beast, clutching onto each other for dear life. The panic makes a thin layer of sweat quickly form itself over our skin, in a way I'm able to feel my palm sweating under the fabric of the glove, making the fabric slightly damp.

Swallowing thickly, all I can think about is running the opposite direction. And I do so. The quiet cry leaving Gerard's lips demonstrates he didn't expect the sudden tug at his arm, what sends him stumbling behind me. In any moment of this, his hand escapes mine and, when I turn back around, I'm alone. There's just the faint sound of a The Cure song playing in the background, coming from my phone, thrown on the ground next to the neglected food and the flashlight.

The silence is almost deafening. There isn't even a quiet cry coming from Gerard or the hushed movements of the vampire.

My heart suddenly becomes heavy with the thought of having lost Gerard. Slowly, I start taking steps back, with the intention of at least getting the flashlight back and maybe stopping the music coming from my phone so it'll be easier to be aware to my surroundings.

It's difficult determining if I should be happy or not that there's no other movement or anything in my way back to the tree. I let out a quiet sigh as bending down to get the flashlight, flicking it on, but the weight of the worry and panic is set back on my shoulders at once when I adjust my posture and I'm able to feel someone standing right behind me. Too tall to be Gerard.

Turning around at once, I point the flashlight at who's most likely the vampire. Even being extremely quick, my brain is able to process the sight of the face contorted in a motion to attack, showing their fangs while making a scary face on purpose while they also make a hissing sound - it all snatch a loud scream from me as I jump back.

The cries coming from me as I push myself back against the tree don't seem to be something I can control, becoming more desperate with a louder hiss coming from the beast.

And the attack never happens, for some reason. All I see when pointing the flashlight at the beast is them hissing louder for no apparent reason, slowly contorting while falling to the ground, twitching a bit before they stop moving at all. Everything is silent again. That asides from the sound of my heart beating in my head and my heavy breath.

The vampire lays there, immobile. Did they die? Why?

With a movement coming a few feet away from the body, I hear something. My heartbeat pace picks up again, my throat dry while I adjust the flashlight on my hand, mentally preparing myself to move it.

"Y'know-"

As much as it's spoken by a familiar voice, the single word doesn't fail in making me scream again, a shaky light illuminating Gerard a few times while I was still scared, but also relieved, with his presence.

"-stop screaming- they'll never believe us when we tell them we fucking killed a vampire to the sound of The Cure," Gerard says in an extraordinarily calm voice. By the time he finishes talking, I'm able to recover myself, my grip on the flashlight becoming steady, illuminating him properly. Gerard looks down at a glass flask on his hand in certain approval, slowly nodding, then he turns to me, squinting his eyes and bringing a hand up to protect his face from the light.

"Stop fucking pointing that thing at me," he complains.

A quiet oh comes from me, reality hitting me and making me feel like if I'm an idiot. After a minute debating about what should be the light's aim, I point it at the vampire again, grimacing lightly at the sight and poking the creature lightly with my foot. I quickly pull it away, afraid it'll go back to 'life' or something. It doesn't happen, thankfully.

"I told you I carry holy water around for a reason!" Gerard's voice suddenly next to me makes me jump again, clutching onto my chest, glaring daggers at him - what he's most likely not able to see, unfortunately. He grabs his own phone, the screen lighting the small space between us just enough for us to see each other properly. Just like his voice had a proud hint, his wide smile also carries the same feeling, the row of short teeth somehow standing out more than the rest of his face under the dim light. He chuckles noticing my glare.

I roll my eyes, smiling a bit as finally allowing myself to calm down. "Idiot," I mutter through a breathy chuckle, weak, like if I've been holding my breath for hours.

"Anyways," Gerard says as poking the body with his foot too, pulling the arms stiff arms away from their chest after he bent down. I can't really see what he's doing, but an unamused look falls on my face once my eyes land on the pin, a pocket watch plus a few other things now on Gerard's hands. "At least it wasn't a completely bad situation."

"How can you be so fucking calm?" I ask in disbelief, another nervous chuckle coming from me. "I just fucking had a heart attack, I thought I'd fucking lost you."

"I believe in my holy water, love. And my silver cross pendants," he says in a matter-of-factly tone that just earns another indignant look from me. It makes him giggle. His giggle helps me a lot with relaxing.

"Though I believe we can cross the graveyard off the list of places to hang out in at midnight," he says with a nervous chuckle, moving to gather the things we left on the grass. Gerard throws some M&M's in his mouth before chugging down some Monster then handing my phone back to me. He holds everything clumsily with an arm while shoving the pocket watch and other things in his pocket before he offers me some of the drink.

It's still unbelievable how he's so calm. Actually, if you think well, not something really surprising after Elena's uncountable stories about vampires. Maybe there's more behind Donna's acts when she shakes her head in maybe reproval and rolls her eyes whenever the older woman is telling a story and the way Gerard's always excited about listening to these. And how their houses are full of crosses, creating a nice goth vibe that matches the dark wooden furniture and vintage decoration. How there's an unsaid superstition in whenever they walk in the house or leave it and the inaudibly muttered words whenever Donna's either serving or preparing some food. Or maybe the lack of family pictures. And too many mirrors hanging around the house.

Shaking my head to myself, I just sigh as taking the can in hand, pressing a quick kiss to Gerard's lips before taking a sip of the drink. "C'mon," I mutter lightly, making sure he's following me to out of this place.

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